


Shakedown

by infinisei



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Albanian Mafia, All Human, Bratva AU, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Russian Mafia, computer whiz!Darcy, way too many references to Hamilton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2018-12-15 13:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 46,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11806527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinisei/pseuds/infinisei
Summary: All she had wanted was some coffee and her best friend's company. She hadn't known what would follow her through the door.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has become my new baby, nurtured for more than a year now and grown to be 15,000+ words longer than I planned before straying out in the real world. It's been one hell of a ride, and I'm so excited to share it with all of you.
> 
> I plan to post on a weekly basis until it's all over. I will try to let you know in advance if I can't make it on time.
> 
> Thanks to midorizawa, cappybaka, procras-tina-tion, tigrrli and - most importantly - my beta dntpanic42 for putting up with my questions and whining about writer's block. Your encouragements and criticisms were a shot of supersoldier serum to my system.

_Okay, okay. You can do this, Darcy. Just breathe. Keep breathing._

 

Darcy shakily leaned back against the motel room floor, trying desperately to calm the panic raging through her body and begging her to jump into a spacecraft and go far, far away. There was a thud as she numbly dropped the bag in her hand.

 

_You can do this, Darcy Lewis._

 

With unsteady legs, she managed to stumble to the bathroom sink. She pawed at the tap and frantically threw water onto her face, trying and failing to soothe her frazzled nerves. She pumped a dollop of soap into her hand and set to scrubbing the blood that had caked onto her skin from her hands. No matter how rigorously she rubbed, though, the stain of red wouldn’t come off and she snarled tremulously before giving up. She grasped the edges of the sink and tightened her hold until her joints protested because she didn’t completely trust her balance.

 

_Oh, god. What am I gonna do?_

 

She raised her head to look at herself in the mirror. She was a goddamn sight—the pallid color of her skin sunking her cheeks to the point where she looked gaunt and haunted. She saw a sheen come into her eyes and fought the tears from falling.

 

_You can—oh, fucking hell. I don’t got this. I’m way over my fucking head. What have I gotten into?_

 

She choked back a sob, the horror and grief finally catching up to her. Ian _. God, Ian._ Ian was dead. _Fuck, it couldn’t be true that her best friend was dead—_

 

But it was. She had witnessed it herself, saw a man with an aura of dominating power ask Ian, “Give me the evidence, boy. I won’t ask again.” When Ian refused, the man motioned at one of his younger companions. Obediently, he stepped forward and stabbed Ian over and over again until Ian fell, choking, to the floor. The group of men had left Ian to die in a pool of his own blood.

 

Darcy stayed frozen in numbed horror behind the office door throughout it all.

 

When Darcy was sure they had left, she had burst from her hiding spot in the office, tripping over herself to get to Ian. She had fluttered her hands over him, trying to figure out what she could do—anything she could do—to save him.

 

By the time she had pulled her wits together enough to realize she needed to call 911, Ian had grasped her hand weakly, stopping her. “No,” he coughed. “Police co—corrupted. Don’t.”

 

“What?” Darcy said breathlessly. “Ian, _you need help_. There’s a lot of blood, and I’m nowhere near trained for something like this.”

 

“It’s too late.” The words had shattered Darcy’s heart. “You—you n—need to get the…the files. Under your dresser.” He struggled to breathe. “I...sorry. Tried...tried to d—do...right thing.”

 

“What files? What are you talking about?” She had started crying then, was already crying before she had went to him and tried so hard to cover up the wounds. There were so many, and she couldn’t decide which one needed the pressure the most. “No, no, no, no, no. Ian, _please_.”

 

“Sorry…” He coughed one last time before stilling, his gaze losing focus. His hand slackened in Darcy’s grip.

 

“No!” The word was a wail. “Ian?” She had shaken him, desperately clinging to the frail hope that he was sleeping and that he would wake up soon. He would wake up, yes, and then he’d smile that dumb, dorky grin of his, and they’d laugh this off and go home. There was no way he could be…

 

He never woke up. Darcy just broke, huge, shuddering sobs overcoming her frame. All she wanted in that moment was her friend to just wake up and be alright.

 

An unbearable feeling rose up in Darcy and a broken whining sound left her. She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle it.

 

Her best friend Ian had died in her arms.

 

In a painful, befuddled haze, Darcy walked out of the bathroom. Staring sightlessly at the hotel room, she stood aimlessly, lost.

 

If having her closest friend die was a gunshot to the stomach, the next hour was her slowly bleeding out, the bullet still lodged inside her. With Ian’s warning echoing through her head, she found a payphone and called in the authorities, questioning the decision the entire time. Then, she’d gone back to her apartment. She locked the door with shaky, bloodstained fingers. Her hands wrapped tightly along her forearms and, with the image of Ian’s fixed gaze on her overwhelming, her knees hit the carpet with a thud. She didn’t register the pain.

 

Back in the motel, she had no idea how much time passed before she focused on the damn bag lying innocently next to the door where she had dropped it. The one that she hadn’t known existed until she had unearthed it after Ian’s vague instructions.

 

She was not ready for more drama or surprises. Today had been overwhelming as it was, thank you very much. But, she had a feeling that if she didn’t look at the contents of the mystery bag that had been under her apartment’s floor for who the hell knew how long now, she wouldn’t have the _cajones_ to look at it ever.

 

Glaring had at the duffel (she was transferring all the blame to an inanimate object, she knew, but she needed to cope somehow), she decided to throw caution to the wind. She stalked over to the bag as if she was about to drive headfirst into oncoming traffic and hauled it up. Throwing it a little too hard on the bed, she attempted to steel herself by taking a deep breath, wiping the tear tracks from her face, and giving herself another brief internal pep talk. She desperately needed it.

 

 _You’ve got this, Darce_. With quick, jerky movements, she unzipped the top of the bag and pulled the lips of the bag open.

 

She stared. And stared some more.

 

Inside the bag were dozen and dozens of stacks of _money_ —stacks of _hundred dollar bills_.

 

 _What the fuck?_ Darcy couldn’t comprehend it. She’d known Ian for more than seven years. They had met as young, innocent freshman who had no idea how to navigate the crazy maze of high school, both literally and figuratively. She knew that Ian and his family were not well off enough to have this kind of cash lying around under a floor they didn’t own. Hell, Ian had to work two jobs since he came to college: one as a bicycle courier for a local business and one as a barista at a coffee shop—she shuddered at the memory that came with _that coffee shop_ , Ian and those men flashing through her mind’s eye again. Why would Ian need to work so much if he was basically set for life?

 

She rifled through the notes, marvelling in a detached sort of way at the amount of money in front of her. As a college student, this kind of cash was the Holy Grail.

 

Suddenly, she touched something a lot sturdier and rougher than the money. Curious, she rummaged around and pulled out a ridiculously thick expanding folder. She struggled to lift it with one hand and had to heft it with both. She padded over to sit fully on the bed. Pulling out the papers, she began sifting through, reading reports and notes. Slowly, a picture began forming in Darcy’s mind. Along with it came no small amount of horror and betrayal. She had never felt them as much in her entire life.

 

The picture told her that Ian—her confidante, her partner in crime—had been working for the Albanian mafia.

 

She balked immediately, an instant denial on her tongue. She kept on grasping at papers, trying to find proof that the claim was wrong. But then her eyes fell upon a shot of Ian aiming a gun at a guy’s face, his face hard and his free hand pulling down his shirt to expose the tattoo on his chest. The tattoo was an eight-pointed star.

 

A cold feeling settled in her stomach. Of all the things she had expected from the bag, this was the furthest thing down the list. Like one of the things you come up with in a moment of drunken stupidity and then laugh about it because it’s so unthinkable. Ever since she had met Ian, her faith in him had been solid. Unbreakable. He had been this thoughtful, dorky dude whose fascination with physics and the stars was ridiculously adorable, who stammered around girls and strangers. Despite their differences, they had clicked immediately and been inseparable ever since. Trying to comprehend the sweet, bumbly Ian she had grown up with and the gangster Ian who extorted and laundered money and threatened people with a gun and hung out with some of the shadiest, most awful people you could meet, was impossible for her.

 

She shuffled through her memories of him, trying to find hints of Ian the mafioso. There had been that one time in ninth grade when Ian had broken down in the middle of a movie, worried that his mom—the only provider after his dad had left—wasn’t making enough for them to stay in Vegas. Darcy had cautiously waited for him to bring it up up again weeks after, but since Ian hadn’t she had assumed his family’d figured something out. Then, in tenth grade, there had been a day when Darcy had been genuinely worried Ian would get into a fistfight. Las Vegas High School had hosted a couple of asshole bullies and one week a pair of them had gotten particularly infuriating; they had been picking on a younger kid with more brain than muscle and Ian had snapped, hurling an insult at the duo. Naturally, it had escalated from there, Ian showing an unusual display of bravery and pig-headedness by not backing down at the sight of red-faced brutes. It had been pure luck that a group of teachers decided to walk through the hallway at that particular moment, forcing them to break it up. Ian had come to his senses later, sheepishly apologizing to her for being an idiot. She’d forgotten it quickly.

 

Now, she was doubting her quick dismissal of his behavior. Had it been regular teenage, pent-up emotional angst, or had it been the signs of Ian’s integration into the mafia? Or was Darcy going crazy for actually considering this?

 

Spreading out the documents, she stared at the evidence of, including Ian’s involvement, dozens of deals done by the Albanian mafia, profiles of every heavy hitter within the gang, and a handful of their headquarters and safe houses.

 

Darcy wasn’t in pre-law; she was a political science major. She knew as much about the judicial system as any average person—which essentially meant nothing—but even she knew that this was enough to destroy the group, or at least give them enough of an ass-kicking to have them scampering into the shadows for a good long while. It was obvious that this is what Ian’s murderer was after. The guy who was now after her. And there was no question that anybody who they found it with would become very dead, very quickly if they didn’t know what they were doing.

 

Darcy’s first instinct was to take it to the police, but looking at the documents and some records of money transfers, it looked like there were several dirty cops on the force and even in agencies like the NSA and CIA. It was unclear who and where exactly and didn’t give all the names. It was all in extremely vague notes and transmissions. That took Darcy’s number one choice off the list.

 

But if Darcy couldn’t go to the authorities at the risk of walking into the wolves’ den, where could she go? She only had one item on her list. And if she couldn’t find anywhere else to go, she’d be dead within the week.

 

The next time she was in the bathroom, she went straight for the toilet.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

It took hours of lying in misery and fear on the bed before the idea came to her. Jolting upright, she scrambled over to where her phone lay on the desk. With renewed energy, she Googled Morozko Private Security. Clicking on the first link, she scanned their website, confirming what she already knew. Morozko was one of the most lauded and well-known private security companies. Their clients included high-profile CEOs, former Congressmen, presidents, and traitors from foreign countries. They boasted the highest success rate in keeping their clients safe and had the numbers to prove it.

 

The thing that Darcy zeroed on the most, though, was one of their former clients: Bruce Banner. Banner was a world-renown scientist who had gotten some pretty terrifying threats against his life because of his work last year. He had hired Morozko to neutralize the threat and, much to everyone’s shock and disbelief, within three days had announced that they had caught the culprits and would turn them into the authorities within the next hour.

 

Darcy had listened to the news coverage with everyone else, but cared about it with the kind of detachment that comes with seeing a total stranger being saved from danger.

 

Darcy was the furthest thing from detached right now, because the article about the story she was reading just then told her that the mafia had put a hit on Banner that had been retracted the same day MPS had tossed five unknown thugs-soon-to-be-incarcerated-terrorists at NYPD’s feet.

 

She could be wrong, but Darcy was pretty sure the Albanian mafia wouldn’t throw five of their own under the bus. That made Morozko her best bet in solving this problem.

 

There was only one problem. Money.

 

You had to pay the big bucks to get Morozko Security and Darcy was the furthest thing from rich; her mom was a store manager and her dad was a teacher. She had relied heavily on the scholarships she had won in order to accept the offer to go to Culver. Her chances of even getting an introductory meeting were nil. She could use the money from the Ian’s duffel, but both her moral and practical side argued against it. It was blood money, after all, and even if she was comfortable using it, there were so many other ways she could use it. Feed the homeless. Donate to the children’s hospital. Pay off her college debts.

 

But none of that could happen if she didn’t survive this. She had no choice.

 

Darting back to the bed, she dumped the money in front of her and mouthed the numbers as she counted. She whistled when she finished. _Five hundred Gs. That was a helluva lot of green._

 

An entire criminal organization would do anything to get that duffel bag and would kill her as soon as they got it. If she wanted to stay alive, she had to run. Run and get help, because the only way she saw herself getting out of this was under the protection of internationally-lauded security.

 

Time to head to New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are eagerly welcomed. See you next week!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feedback from the last chapter was absolutely amazing; hope I continue to keep you all hooked!

Darcy wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans. Her eyes flickered back and forth between every person in her sights, tensing at anyone who was even close to looking her way. She had traveled nonstop for eleven hours and she was feeling justifiably gross, underdressed, bone-dead tired, and afraid for her life in an office filled with gobs of suits.

 

Sometimes she wondered who she had pissed off in a past life to be given a life filled with such uncomfortable situations. In the back of her mind, a constant mantra of _Have I done the right thing?_ echoed.

 

“Miss?” Darcy twitched and glanced to see a blonde in a perfectly pressed suit waiting for her next to the front desk. The woman gave her a professional smile. “Mr. Shade is ready to see you.”

 

Nervously, she rose and followed the woman to the elevator, then a stunningly massive office on the twenty-fifth floor. The top floor. She was momentarily distracted by the gorgeous view of New York City that took up an entire wall. Then, she took in the elegant yet simple modern furniture decorating the room. Most business majors had wet dreams about this kind of office.

 

Darcy found it ironic that the last thing in the room she noticed was literally the most immense man she had ever seen.

 

He filled up so much room with his broad shoulders and tall physique, yet his presence was softened by the gentle lines of his face and the welcoming look in his eyes. He wore a simple yet very expensive-looking suit and his burgundy tie matched his dark skin and brown eyes.

 

“Thank you, Miss Dubinsky. Miss Lewis, is it?” the man said in a soothing rumble. She managed to nod. He stepped forward to shake her hand. “A pleasure to meet you. My name is Victor Shade.”

 

“Uh, yeah, nice to meet you too,” she stammered, wincing at the sticky feeling of her hand in his. _Smooth, Lewis_.

 

He didn’t seem to notice and gestured to an elegant yet uncomfortable-looking chair. She stifled a grimace as she sat down. As he sat across from her, he said, “I must admit I was surprised to hear of your request from Miss Dubinsky. If you could, I would be pleased to hear your situation from the original source.”

 

“Right, yeah, sure,” she cleared her throat, unsure of where to start. It had taken hours and hours to get to New York and Morozko’s headquarters and the only thing that had kept her sane was the goal of getting here. Now that she was finally here, she was doubting everything. “Umm… Well—” Her brain, exhausted and filled to the brim with stress, scrambled.

 

Shade tried to prod her gently. “It might be easier to start from the beginning.”

 

A hysterical laugh escaped her. “It probably would be, but I don’t even know what the beginning is.”

 

Shade tilted his head to the side like a confused dog. “I cannot seem to follow you.”

 

“Yeah, I know, and I’m super sorry about it. God, I’m a political science major who debated since middle school, I’m supposed to be good at talking.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, so yesterday, I woke up from an unexpected nap in a coffee shop and witnessed my best friend get—” She choked right then, the grief coming back to squeeze her throat. She knew she had to say it at some point and she forced herself to blurt it out. “Murdered.” After saying it, her heart squeezed. Now that she had said it, it became much more real and final. Ian was gone forever.

 

“I see,” Shade was a lot less taken aback at her confession than she had expected.

 

“And before he—he—” she cleared her throat. “He told me to find something under my dresser in my apartment. He’d never said anything about my dresser or stashing anything in it. I thought there was no way that there would be anything there, but I was curious and… well, it turned out I didn’t know my best friend like I thought.”

 

Shade seemed to understand that she needed a moment before continuing. Thankful of his thoughtfulness, she forced herself to slap out of it. “I was going to open it right there, but I just so happened to look out my window and I saw Ian’s murderer walk into my dorm.” She could still feel the frozen terror that went through her at the sight. “I knew he was looking for me; Ian’s room wasn’t in the building and neither were any of his other friends. I left immediately, using a backdoor only my dorm mates knew, and flagged a cab. I eventually opened the duffel in a motel room.”

 

“Do you have any idea who this man is?” he asked.

 

Darcy had this weird urge to laugh in the upcoming madness she was about to tell this guy. He likely had heard some freaky stories during his years here, but she had a feeling this was going to top the list. She pulled out the Albanian mafia folder and passed it to him. “It’s a lot to process without some time to read through it all, but essentially, my best friend was apparently a member of the Albanian mafia and collected a bunch of info about almost everything about the organization.”

 

The dude shot her a sharp look and leafed through a few of the documents. After a moment, he rose and circled back to his desk. He pressed a button. “Miss Dubinsky, could you please have Mr. Barnes come to my office immediately? It’s urgent. Yes, I’m aware he’s in a meeting, but I assure you, he will want to be here. Thank you.”

 

He pressed another button, then returned to his seat. Darcy watched him with a confused wariness. “Ah, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

 

He gave her a comforting look. “Do not be concerned, Miss Lewis. This will only take a moment.”

 

Still thinking that something was happening she wouldn’t like, she did as he requested. Shade continued to pour over the papers.

 

The clicking of high heels announced the new arrivals. The blonde secretary opened the door for the newcomer.

 

In stepped a man with ruffled, short hair that flared out in the front, an excellent jawline, and striking blue eyes. His perfectly cut suit did not hide his body—the complete opposite, actually. The size of his arms and shoulders were ridiculous and Darcy had no doubt his stomach had the same kind of abs she had only seen in movies and TV. In short, the guy was gorgeous and Darcy’s mouth gaped open slightly.

 

Thankfully, Darcy’s mouth was safety snapped shut by the time he glanced her way.

 

“What is it, Shade?” the guy asked impatiently. “You know I was in that strategy meeting.”

 

“I do apologize, sir, but I do believe you will want to see this,” Shade said evenly. “This is Miss Darcy Lewis and she has experienced a harrowing day. Miss Lewis, Mr. Barnes, the CEO of Morozko Private Security Incorporated.”

 

When Barnes looked her over again, she could tell how little he thought of her in her beat-up jeans and _Ghostbusters_ T-shirt. Clearly, he was used to interacting with a different class of society.

 

Then, all of what Shade said caught up with her. Wait a sec, Mr. Barnes? The CEO of the fucking company? _Holy shit_ , what the hell was going on?

 

“Nice to meet you,” she said weakly.

 

“Nice to meet you too,” he said curtly, almost automatically. He then turned back to his colleague. “Shade, what is it?”

 

“Miss Lewis has just had an unfortunate encounter with the Albanian mafia.”

 

That got Barnes’ attention. “Albanian mafia?”

 

“It seems a close friend of hers was affiliated with the group but had tired of it. He had been collecting intelligence for some time.”

 

Barnes took the papers Shade offered and peered at them. His focus was now fully on what was in front of him. “You sure these are legit?”

 

“We can confirm their legitimacy in but a few hours.”

 

Darcy felt it was time she spoke up. “So…is there something I should know?”

 

Shade evaded the question by saying, “If I could guess, I’m assuming that you came there with this to ask for protection from these people and our assurances that we take these documents and resolve this situation.”

 

“Wow, have you done this before?” she asked dryly.

 

“Yes, I have. You agree that these were the terms you planned to ask of us?”

 

“I—” Okay, guess she hadn’t laid down the sarcasm thick enough that time. “Yes. That was basically it. Oh, and I have money for this.” She pushed the duffel towards them. Shade unzipped the bag and eyed it critically. He exchanged a look with Barnes that seemed to say a lot that Darcy couldn’t understand.

 

Regardless, a decision seemed to have been made because Barnes was going out the door without a word. Shade said, “Very well. We will pull up a contract for you and once we both agree to its terms, we will take your case.”

 

“What, really?” She honestly hadn’t thought it would be this easy.

 

Shade smiled in reassurance. “Yes. Do not worry any longer, Miss Lewis. We will take care of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smash those buttons!


	3. Chapter 3

For the first time ever, Darcy was worried about her education.

 

It wasn’t that Darcy never cared about her education. In spite of the never-ending stress of difficult assignments, impossible teachers, and aggravating group members, Darcy did enjoy expanding her knowledge and view of the world. As much as the application process had been a tedious and nerve-wracking process, she loved college, the freedom and the academic pursuit of her interests and the eclectic social scene.

 

Darcy wasn’t sure if she would be able to return to it.

 

Before she fled to New York, she had made a call to the office, notifying Culver that she had a family emergency and she would be unable to return to classes for the foreseeable future. Then, she turned off her phone and had stared at it for a good two-thirds of the trip.

 

If this went on for enough time, she could be held back for a semester. Maybe even a year. If it went on even later than that, she could be kicked out of Culver. And if it went on longer than that, then...well, she was pretty sure she would be in a ditch somewhere and wouldn’t have to worry about academics.

 

“Miss?” the driver drew her attention. Similar to Shade, he had a British accent. “We’ve arrived at your safehouse.”

 

“Thanks. I didn’t catch your name, actually,” she said just as he exited the car.

 

When he opened the door, he still appeared to be taken off guard. “Charles, ma’am.”

 

She offered her hand when she got out of the car. “Nice meeting you. And please, don’t call me that; it’s Darcy.”

 

“Of course, Miss Darcy,” he said. Freaking polite as hell British people. “This way.”

 

Finally taking in her surroundings, she gazed at the gorgeous apartment building, a tasteful mix of brick and glass and steel, towering over her.

 

She trailed after Charles. A man in another suit was waiting in front of the entrance. He had the lightest hair she had ever seen in her life pulled up in a ponytail; it was long and straight and looked as if it was white.

 

“Miss Lewis,” he said. He had this slow drawl to his voice that wasn’t exactly Southern. “Welcome. I’m Karl McSweeney and I’ll be in charge of your security while you’re here at the Skua House.”

 

She raised her hand to shake what seemed to be the fiftieth hand she’d grasped today. “Awesome.”

 

“Come on in.”

 

As they entered into the lobby, she commented, “I don’t mean to complain or anything after the 500k I just gave you guys, but this seems a little bigger than what I pictured when I thought of a safehouse.”

 

McSweeney chuckled. “Not just a pretty face, I see. You’re right; this is an unorthodox safehouse but we’ve made sure that it more than does the job.”

 

“Meaning…?”

 

“Meaning that we’ve got technology and protocols that make this place more secure than any regular safehouse,” the almost-albino said confidently. “I can’t share the details because they’re highly classified but we will be giving you security protocols we expect for you to follow for your safety.”

 

Darcy nodded in agreement. They walked into an elevator and McSweeney selected the top floor.

 

“I know you’ve already gone over this in your contract, but remember to follow all MPS staff’s instructions. Also, please notify anyone of anything you need; we’ve already stocked your dresser, bathroom, and kitchen with necessities.”

 

“Thanks.” She’d been worried about not having any belongings of her own; she hadn’t been given a lot of time to prep for the journey.

 

“Of course.” The elevator chimed and opened to reveal a penthouse beyond anyone’s wildest dreams and Tumblr fantasies. Dark red brick made up the outer walls and light shone down from skylights, highlighting the tan wood and homey furniture. A steel spiral staircase led upstairs.

 

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

 

Both the driver and the security man tried to hide their smiles. “We’ll give you some time to get settled,” McSweeney said. “We can have that security briefing later.”

 

“Sure, sure.” She stepped deeper into the apartment, that childlike wonder still with her.

 

She barely noticed the chime of the elevator as the two men left.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

That night, Darcy burrowed into her linen comforter and pillows, her gaze on the darkened room in front of her.

 

The excitement that had followed her today had faded as she had explored her temporary home-slash-safehouse. The darker realities of her situation rose now that her immediate safety was certain—Ian’s death and his deception, her forced flee from her home, her life still hanging in the balance.

 

On top of this was the pure confusion that still appeared when she tried to reason why Shade had called CEO James Barnes to look over that she had given them, only for the head honcho to leave just as abruptly as he had come. That was likely something she’d be wondering about for a while.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

The next few days were...interesting.

 

She settled into Skua’s penthouse and started a routine. She’d leisurely wake up at nine and make a full breakfast of Pop Tarts. She’d watch the local news, jeering at the hairbrained reporters and idiotic stories. The opening of an ice cream shop was more important than the situation in the Middle East, apparently.

 

She’d pull something together with whatever was in the fridge for lunch. She had been totally pumped when she got to make that Tastemade Porcupine Potatoes recipe that she’d been dying to make after stumbling across it on Facebook. They were as awesome as they sounded.

 

After, she’d do a variety of things, from catching up on Netflix to refining her video game skills to reading the books on her wish list.

 

And that lasted her for a good few weeks. But there comes a point where the shine of it all started to fade.

 

To be blunt...man, she was so _bored_.

 

“I mean, you really have to argue the ethics that come from the entire thing. If you have a team, then each member has to have a purpose, something that they give to the team that makes the group successful.

 

“So if you argue that a team member is useless, then you’re automatically in the wrong, right? Like, there’s no need to go any further into the argument, since the person who proposes such blasphemy automatically loses.”

 

“Sweetie, I swear to Christ, if you don’t shut up, I will hurt you.”

 

Darcy sniffed. “Well, that’s rude. You had a crappy day yesterday?”

 

“I will hide the body so well that not even my bosses will be able to find you.”

 

“I see that you’re regretting not taking my advice not to date that douchewad you were gushing about the other day. It’s okay, now you can learn from your mistake and listen to me in the future.”

 

Kat, the technical operator of Skua House, rolled her eyes. “You are completely ridiculous.”

 

“I am completely right, both with the statement that Sokka is a valuable member of Team Avatar and that you deserved far more than that salamander-faced asshat.”

 

A faint blush colored Kat’s cheeks. “Now you’re exaggerating.”

 

“And now you’re being completely ridiculous. You’re a brainy, gorgeous, and kickass woman with an awesome job; the dude was so far out of his league.”

 

“Well, that’s no first,” someone broke in.

 

With that, two men entered into security’s computer room. Anatoli and Vladimir were what Darcy considered to be the typical Russian bodyguards—big, burly, and possessing thick necks and tattoos decorated everywhere Darcy could see.

 

But after a couple days of hanging out with them, Darcy knew that they were complete and utter teddy bears. Darcy was actually surprised they’d been hired by MPS in the first place, they were so soft-hearted.

 

“I have club sandwich for the lovely Kat,” Anatoli placed the bag to the left of her, “and roast beef sandwich for Princess Darina.”

 

“Why, Anatoli, you shouldn’t have,” Darcy eagerly dove into the packaging, ripping open the foil and the sandwich, humming with pleasure at the taste.

 

“I have never seen a person take such pleasure from food at Benny’s,” Vladimir noted with humor.

 

Darcy pointed at him and said unattractively with a half-full mouth, “Whoever created food was a genius and I’m only appreciating what the brilliant person created.”

 

“Eat up, Kat,” Anatoli ordered. “It will get soggy soon.”

 

“I will, but I’m trying to fix the system,” she said tartly. “The bugs appeared so randomly and they’re being such a _pain_. I have to finish them as soon as possible.”

 

“I can take a look at it, if you want,” Darcy offered between bites.

 

“You are computer expert?” Anatoli exclaimed.

 

“I wouldn’t say ‘expert,’ I’m no master at computers, but I took enough classes that I was for real considering just taking a couple more to get a minor.” She shrugged.

 

Kat shot her a respectful look. “That’s awesome, Darcy. And I would take you up on your offer, but we have a strict security policy that says we can’t let anyone—client or no—see our security system.”

 

Darcy sighed. “Okay, if you’re sure, goody-two-shoes. I won’t be the one staring at code for the next week or so.”

 

A beep sounded from a console and the guards gave her an apologetic look. “Darina—”

 

She waved them all off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Protocol: clients are not allowed to be in the security room during transmissions. I’m gone.”

 

“We’ll call you when we’re done,” Kat said, gratefulness in her voice.

 

Darcy raised her hand in farewell, her half-eaten sandwich in her other hand. It sucked when their hangouts were interrupted, but this was the only social interaction she’d gotten over the past few weeks. After a few days without seeing another human being’s face, let alone exchanging words, she had started going a little stir crazy. Only common sense that told her she’d signed a contract saying she wouldn’t interact with anyone without explicit approval and utter fear kept her from calling someone (she thought of so many names, but the ones that kept coming up were her parents’). Desperate, she went down a floor to security and chatted up the technical specialist Kat and her colleagues, who worked under McSweeney. It didn’t take long for her to realize they were actually good people and regularly visited them.

 

Darcy left the elevator, fiddling with the MPS-issued phone when it rang. Blinking at the unexpected call, she pressured accept and raised the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

 

“Miss Lewis? This is Victor Shade speaking.”

 

“Mr. Shade!” She smoothed her hair.

 

“I wanted to check in on you and see how matters are at the Skua House. I trust that your time there has been satisfactory?”

 

“Given the restrictions ironed out in my contract, definitely five stars.”

 

“Excellent. I’m pleased to hear it. If there comes a time in which your five-star review drops in any way, please notify me.”

 

“Yeah, I definitely will.” She lowered herself onto the couch and crossed her legs.

 

“I also wished to keep you informed of our work regarding the Albanian mafia. We have confirmed all that we could of the evidence you provided us and are in the midst of gathering more key pieces of information. Once we have enough to be confident that we can move without revealing our hand, we will do so.”

 

“How long do you think that’ll take?” she wondered, worried. She’d really prefer not to be stuck here disconnected from the world while her protectors stuck their necks out.

 

“Not long at all,” he reassured. “The pieces are already in motion and we are working around the clock to get this completed.”

 

Darcy let out a breath. “Okay, sounds good.”

 

“If you have any other questions, I will make every effort to answer them to the best of my ability.”

 

“No, thanks, I think that’s it. Oh, no! Wait!” The words burst out of her as a thought occurred to her. “I had wanted to ask but didn’t find the time: what was that whole thing with Mr. Barnes? It just seemed like there might have been more going on than I saw.”

 

There was a pause. “Mr. Barnes has particular interest in managing the higher-risk assignments. As soon as I realized the magnitude of the job you had provided us, I made sure to notify Mr. Barnes as soon as possible so that he was aware of what we were about to undertake.”

 

“Oh.” That sounded right. It sounded so reasonable that she was honestly embarrassed she hadn’t thought of it and asked the head of operations. “Alrighty, then. That’s all I have. Thanks for checking in on me and keeping me in the loop.”

 

“Of course, Miss Lewis. I will be in contact sometime in the future.”

 

“You too.”

 

The line disconnected and Darcy flopped onto the couch.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

_Wide brown eyes stared at her as he convulsed, the blade entering and exiting his body again and again for what seemed like forever. He seized wildly on the fourth stab, blood dribbling down his lips and his chin. She had always considered Ian to be ridiculously tall (he was six feet but a good head taller than her) but he was so frighteningly small curled over like he was next to his murderer. He watched as his men held Ian up so effortlessly with no concern for the other human being in front of him. His eyes, brown like Ian’s, whose eyes were always so warm, where hard as flint. Absolutely merciless._

 

_They finally let Ian fall. Ian’s rattling breaths killed Darcy inside, who stood there absolutely helpless._

 

_The murderer turned around to leave when his gaze fell upon the office door. Their eyes connected. She’d been discovered._

 

_Her terror skyrocketed. The blood froze in her veins._

 

_A cruel, delighted smirk lit his face. “Hello, there.”_

 

_The door was wrenched upon abruptly. Darcy startled out of her stupor. She scrambled backwards, screaming, but hands grabbed her. They pulled her back even as she fought back, desperate to get free. Their strength overpowered her, though, and she was forced to kneel by the thugs. He watched on, still smiling._

 

_“Liked what you saw?” he questioned. “Don’t worry, you’ll see it again. Much closer.”_

 

_As he approached, knife still painted in Ian’s blood, her screams echoed off the walls._

 

Darcy bolted upright, gasping on a scream. She clutched herself frantically, barely believing she was safe and unharmed. She touched her face and felt wetness; she’d been crying.

 

Shaken, Darcy scrambled out of bed. She crossed quickly to the kitchen, the invisible weight of her nightmare lingering on her skin.

 

Needing some comfort, she pulled together a cup of hot chocolate. She greedily inhaled the steam rising from the cup and huddled around it. She stared, haunted, at the shadows in the living room.

 

She had started to hate the nights. They were filled with too many memories she never wanted to see again and horrifying revelations of what could have happened. What’s more, it picked at the painful scab that was Ian’s death, something she still wasn’t ready to hash out.

 

In spite of her determination to block and deny, deny, deny for as long as she could, she couldn’t help but realize that, she wished more than anything that Ian was here by her side through this whole roller coaster ride. She could just hear him now: _Yet another crazy attracted by Chaos Magnet Darcy Lewis. I should absolutely stay away from you for the benefit of my own health and sanity. Though, I can’t help but be jealous that you somehow managed to score a penthouse out of this. You have the weirdest luck, Darce._

 

A smile tugged at her lips. _Oh, Ian._

 

A shrieking, ear-piercing noise had Darcy spilling half of her cocoa on herself. She became even more alarmed when it cut off just as spontaneously as it had turned on. “The freaking hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next week!!!!
> 
> Check out my tumblr [infinisei](https://infinisei.tumblr.com/) and come talk to me anytime!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone this chapter who's been commenting with every update. You know who you are. Thank you so much for expressing your love, compassion, suspicion, and more. I truly appreciate it.

Darcy dashed to the panel to the left of the fridge to check the floors’ status. Everything flashed between green and red like Christmas decorations. That had definitely not been in the briefing she’d had with McSweeney. Concern tickling the pit of her stomach, she pulled the comm from the drawer under the panel. “This is Little Skua, checking in for status. Is everyone okay?”

 

A moment of no response left Darcy frustratingly tense before the comm crackled in her ear. “This is Grey Wolf. Code Green. I repeat, Code Green,” McSweeney said.

 

Darcy slumped forward, relief making her boneless. “Thank god.” She gave herself a few seconds to breathe easily. “What was that?”

 

“Out of site problem. I’m sorry, Darcy, but I’m going to have to mute this comm.”

 

“Yeah, of course.” Once the click sounded, indicating that McSweeney had turned off his comm, she pulled out her own, thinking. McSweeney had sounded stressed. They must be having a really bad problem.

 

She crossed her arms in the moonlight, feeling slightly useless. If they were having such a big problem, what was the harm in seeing if they needed help? Screw protocol if it meant saving a life. She'd want someone to do it if it was her in danger.

 

Feeling resolved, she found herself making the trip to the elevator. The doors opened and she immediately knew something was wrong. There was a visible strain in the air. Shouting came from the technical room.

 

She picked up her pace and found a good half-dozen screens on the wall with “CONNECTION LOST” printed in big letters across each of them. Vladimir and Anatoli were frantically on a separate console with a screen matching the ones on the wall. Kat was kneeling on the floor with numerous wires surrounding her. And McSweeney was staring at a laptop with a phone at his ear, talking urgently.

 

“What—”

 

Vladimir noticed her presence but didn’t stop working. “Darina, we’re very busy and have to focus right now, we can’t—”

 

“How bad is it?”

 

Darcy supposed Vladimir could tell she wasn’t going to leave until she got answers because he made a noise of frustration but said, “One of our teams was in hostile mission and the base lost connection to them. They asked us to help reconnect but those bugs Kat was trying to fix are stopping us.”

 

Kat made a furious noise. “Fuck.”

 

The peril made apparent to Darcy, she raced over to kneel next to Kat. “How can I help?”

 

Kat said impatiently, “I can’t—”

 

McSweeney had noticed her presence too. “Miss Lewis, you cannot be here right now—”

 

“I know there are rules saying I can’t be here, but if there are lives on the line, then you need an extra brain and pair of hands,” Darcy cut them off. “Are the lives of your team really worth keeping protocol?”

 

Kat only stared at her for a second before she broke. “The block is internal, not external.”

 

“You know for sure?”

 

“Yes, but I can’t find where it is and it’s taking too long to check everywhere.”

 

Darcy wracked her brain for a solution. “You don’t have to search everywhere. You can make the computer search for you.” She pushed herself to her feet and went for the computer.

 

“How?” Kat shouted.

 

Darcy typed furiously. “It’s a program we learned in class…” She hit enter and anxiously waited, as the script ran. “C’mon…”

 

“We’re running out of time,” Anatoli warned.

 

New text appeared on the monitor. “Got it!” Darcy crowed. She rattled off the location to Kat.

 

At the correct server, Kat worked, hands and fingers flying. There was a beep and suddenly the screens on the wall transitioned to a live feed. Transmissions started filtering in.

 

“Yes!” Darcy cheered.

 

Kat collapsed back onto her haunches, her relief clearly visible. Vladimir and Anatoli stopped what they were doing and shouted victoriously. They high-fived each other. McSweeney, with a look of satisfaction of his face, asked, “Are you getting the feed?” into his phone.

 

A vice-like hug snapped Darcy out of her reverie. “Darcy, that was amazing! You just saved the entire mission.”

 

Warmly, Darcy hugged Kat back. “Glad I could help. I told you that if you ever had a problem you could come to me.”

 

Kat chuckled. “I know, I know. Well, we have to finish the op, but after that, we’re celebrating, alright? Drinks on me.”

 

“Yes, a celebration!” boomed Anatoli. “For the wits and bravery of Princess Darina and Lady Kat, who saved the day!”

 

Vladimir made heartfelt noises in agreement.

 

Darcy giggled. “Alright, alright. I won’t complain about a party, no matter the excuse. I’ll be back in an hour.”

 

Kat hummed. “And bring alcohol!”

 

✪✪✪

 

That day, Darcy was feeling pretty proud of herself. Those late night coding assignments had paid off. Darcy, Kat, Vladimir, and Anatoli partied until the wee hours of the morning. McSweeney, sadly, couldn’t make it, since he was finishing coordinating the op. Sucks to be leader. Darcy had left him a shot of vodka in consolation.

 

When she had said goodnight to them at three o’clock in the morning, she was dead on her feet. However, what had happened last time she had fallen asleep was still fresh in her mind. “Hooray for coffee,” she muttered as she poured herself a cup.

 

It had been her saving grace and would be so for many days to come.

 

Disappointedly, her buddies down a floor were in a top-secret, very hush-hush meeting all day, so Darcy had to entertain herself once again. She futzed around the kitchen some more, coming up with a list of recipes she’d like to try and a corresponding list of ingredients she needed. She felt bad for whoever was assigned to pick up groceries; it was a long list.

 

She got to shout some more at the news correspondents talking about current events. She even wrote down some of her responses, because she could fairly easily guess that she was going to be writing about the conflicts a time or two. God, she must be so bored to make up assignments and actually do them.

 

She very pointedly ignored the sun’s descent to the skyline. She changed into PJs and cuddled into bed and everything, but she very determinately had her phone on its brightest setting and was powering through levels of Candy Crush. Level 70 was such a bitch.

 

A quick burst of static distracted her from her game. She frowned at the speakers above her. Only one noise was supposed to come in from those speakers and that was the high-level alarm she had just heard the night before. McSweeney had even told her that if any noise that was not the alarm came from the speaker, then something was wrong. For the second time in twenty four hours, she found herself searching for a security comm; this one was conveniently in her bedside drawer. “This is Little Skua, checking in for status. Is everyone okay?” As she spoke, her mind went to the security camera network connection. She paddled towards her computer to turn it on.

 

Noise crackled immediately followed. “This is Grey Wolf. False alarm. I repeat, false alarm. Go back to bed, Little Skua, we’re at Code Green.”

 

She paused her work on the computer. “Oh, okay. Roger that.” She powered down the comm.

 

She just sat there for a bit, the aftermath of the adrenaline rush making her drained. She was so not loving these immense levels of stress.

 

Darcy was about to abandon the controls and return to Candy Crush when the computer screen flickered, attempting to follow her command to access the camera feeds. The screen instantly changed to blue with the words “NO CONNECTION” in white and black.

 

That was weird.

 

The security system must’ve gotten another bug. She’d honestly thought the system of a company with as high a reputation as MPS wouldn’t have so many crippling bugs. She instantly thought about calling Kat to fix it when she stopped herself. Kat was probably sleeping off the stress and the partying and why should she disturb her when Darcy could do it herself? It wasn’t like Darcy had anything else to do.

 

Darcy pulled the laptop on the table behind her onto her lap. Pulling up the console, she scanned the network. The nasty little virus was so plainly visible it was almost flashing at her in neon orange. For a virus, it was extremely crude; whoever had come up with it must have been completely boneheaded not to realize how easily it could be to detect it.

 

She easily managed to scrub it from the system and rebooted everything. Once it completed the restart, the “NO CONNECTION” screen disappeared. Darcy grinned.

 

Her grin faded quickly.

 

Because there were goons flooding the lobby of Skua House, each of them with guns. They were dressed very similarly to the ones she had seen on Ian’s coffeeshop.

 

They had found her. And judging by what they were carrying, they were there to kill her.

 

Adrenaline was quickly flooding her system again, the threat on her life bringing a terror that was becoming more familiar every day.

 

She fumbled for her comm, shoving it in her ear as she flipped through other security feeds. Had they come through anywhere else?

 

The screen to the security floor and the comm slipped from her fingers, her fingers turning numb.

 

Right in front of her eyes was McSweeney standing over Kat, Vladimir, and Anatoli’s still bodies. He checked the gun in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what to do


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (not sorry) for that cliffhanger.

He’d killed them. He’d killed his own colleagues and friends.

 

She ran for her phone. Palms sweaty, she scrolled through her contacts. Finding the one she wanted, she clicked the call button, held the device to her ear, and ran back out.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Mr. Shade!” she cried out in relief. She pulled the fire alarm; lights flashed, the siren wailed. “The House is under attack. They’re already in the lobby and trying to come up.”

 

“Contact your security—”

 

“McSweeney just shot his entire team when he had told me just earlier that everything is fine. I don’t think that’s happening.”

 

There was a pause.

 

“Look, I know that's probably hard to believe, but if you don't start believing me soon, I'm going to die in a few minutes!”

 

To her relief, he did. “I hear you’ve already stopped the lift; barricade the stairs as best as you can, then do the same for your bedroom. There is a gun in the chest under your bed. Arm yourself.”

 

“But I don’t know how to use a gun!”

 

“That doesn’t matter; it’s a Glock. Just point and shoot. I have already sent a team to you. They will knock four times to inform you that they are with us.”

 

She clung to the instructions he gave her. “Right, okay.”

 

She glanced at the TV. They were climbed up the stairs and already passing the seventh floor. At their rate, it wouldn’t be long before they’d get to the top.

 

With that in mind, she set to work, her phone on speaker in her back pocket. She shoved the couch in front of the entrance then began piling anything heavy she could get her hands on.

 

When it became clear she couldn’t do anything more, she grabbed the comm just in case. Then, she twisted the lock to her bedroom and started hauling the heavy-ass chest at the foot of her bed and started piling more on top of that. She’d considered trying to move the bed itself, but she figured that was betting on the idea she was stronger than she actually was and she really didn’t want to pull a muscle or two. The last thing she put on top of the pile was the case the gun was stored; she took the weapon out as if it were a hand grenade missing its clip.

 

When the first bang on the staircase entrance echoed through to the bedroom Darcy was pretty sure it scared a year off her life. She grasped the gun with sweaty palms, resting it on her knees in her sitting position in the bathroom. After a second glance in the bathroom, she grasped the edge of the cabinet under the sink and pulled it in front of her as a makeshift shield.

 

The anticipation was a mind-fucker. Every time there was a bang, she would stop breathing for a second.

 

“Miss Lewis, our team has arrived on the scene. They are moving towards you now.”

 

“Tell them to hurry up, because they’re getting way too close for comfort.”

 

Finally, she heard a loud crash from outside. They’d made it past the first barrier. She desperately tried to ignore the flashbacks of her nightmares.

 

“They made it past the door to the staircase.”

 

There was an intensity of Shade’s voice as he said. “Hold your ground. The team is almost there. If they manage to break through your bedroom door, do not fire until they’re fully in the room. Don’t attempt to reinforce the barrier if it starts breaking.”

 

Darcy couldn’t fathom the reason behind the orders but didn’t ask; she would ask if she survived this. “Okay.”

 

The first hit on her bedroom door made her flinch sharply and her heart rate skyrocketed so high she through the world’s fastest racehorse was competing in her chest.

 

At ten hits, the gun case fell off the barrier pile. Bits and pieces followed as the pile was shook constantly.

 

Darcy readied herself when they nudged the pile enough to open the door a crack, her arms over the top of the cabinet, keeping her aim steady. She held her breath as they heaved and shoved until the first one squeezed through. Where the hell was that rescue team?

 

Goon One heaved the rest of the barrier down and five other men joined him. And then she pulled the trigger.

 

Goon Three made a horrible half-scream and went down, collapsing on Goon Two and making him stagger. Darcy fired again before they could turn and spot her. The second bullet went into Goon Five’s arm and he snarled in pain.

 

Fully aware of the threat against them, the goons moved quickly, a few of them ducking for cover and the rest twisting to shoot in her direction. The bullets haphazardly sliced through the bathroom. Incredibly, none made purchase with her skin. Ducking behind the cabinet, she sent off a few more shots blindly.

 

She kept on pulling the trigger when the gun stopped firing and she heard a clicking noise. She’d run out of bullets. Frantically, she hunkered down, covering her arms over her head.

 

It didn’t help. Within seconds, someone yanked the cabinet out of the way and she was facing down the barrel of a gun. Goon One was panting and looked like he’d had a bit of a tumble during her attack. He looked ready to have her pay for it. Darcy took a halting breath, thinking fleetingly about her family and Ian and bracing herself.

 

A thud interrupted them and she and Goon One glanced back to find Goon Six on the ground with a throwing knife in his throat.

 

A figure blew into the room, barreling straight for Goon Two and the foot of the bed. A flash caught Darcy’s eye and Goon One dropped the gun. He looked down at the knife in his chest in shock before teetering towards her. Darcy shrieked, shoving him away so that he landed at her feet.

 

Stunned, Darcy peered around the cabinet. Goon Two and Four were fighting off the newcomer but were miserably failing. Quick jabs to the knees and stomach had Two winded on the ground. A wild move at Four’s legs had him thrown back into the wall. He slid down, dazed, and didn’t have the thought to put up a defense when his head was turned so far something snapped. Two, having recovered, roared out his rage and charged like a bull with his hand to shoot. The figure spun, knocked the gun from his hand, dodged a shot from Goon Five, who Darcy couldn’t see, and shot Two with their own gun. The shape then darted out of her sight to deal with Five. Darcy, curious but not _that_ curious, stayed right where she was as she heard a couple shots followed by a few smacks and a deeper, more resounding thud.

 

Eerie silence fell. Unsure of what had happened, Darcy warily watched the figure come into view. Now that the newcomer was still, Darcy took in the lithe, female form in black tactical gear. Pretty eastern European features were set in a soft, round face. Her hair was tied in a neat bun at the nape of her neck. Then, Darcy looked around at the five bodies lying dead at her feet.

 

Well, shit.

 

The woman cocked an eyebrow. “I would have knocked, but the door was already open.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Miss Lewis,” Shade said, relieved, “I am most pleased to see you unharmed.”

 

“Me too,” Darcy muttered, still in a state of disbelief.

 

“If you are feeling well enough for it, I have the doctor on standby to check you over for a professional look.”

 

“That’s really not necessary.”

 

“Nevertheless,” Shade insisted, “I would feel much better if I had the comfort of knowing a professional announced you to be physically unharmed.”

 

Darcy shrugged, not having the energy to dig her heels in on the matter.

 

Pleased at her acquiescence, he pressed a call button. “If you could send the doctor, please.” Straightening, he turned to the other presence in his office. “Wanda, excellent work, as usual.”

 

Darcy’s savior had introduced herself as Wanda Maximoff during the drive to MPS’s office. She told her that she was Head of Operations of Morozko and that she would be personally overseeing her security with Shade from now on. 

 

“I would have felt better if we had captured McSweeney,” Wanda said in her Russian accent. “We managed to subdue a few of the men for questioning, but we captured video of McSweeney escaping during the chaos. He’s in the wind.”

 

“We’ll find him,” he said confidently. “Thanks to Darcy overriding his security shutdown, we have images of his comrades and our informants.”

 

“But that raises the main problem,” Darcy cut in. “Why the fuck did McSweeney kill his team and how the hell did those people know I was there?”

 

Shade and Wanda exchanged a look. “From what we can initially gather, it appears McSweeney was a traitor in our midst, loyal to the Albanian mafia. He contacted his superiors, revealed your location, and killed his staff to remove any barriers.”

 

Darcy stared at him. “You hired a spy of the exact organization I was hiding from and hired  _ you _ to protect me from and assigned him as  _ my _ security detail?”

 

“I can assure you it was not our intention.”

 

“Well, it looks like your intentions aren’t worth shit! What’s the point of giving you fifty thousand dollars when it leaves me in the same amount of danger I’d be in if I were on my own!”

 

“Miss Lewis—”

 

“No!” Darcy’s voice rose. “I was literally a second away from having a bullet in my brain and being buried six feet under. Three more friends who I’d just gotten to know are dead. Your network system was a piece of crap full of bugs that was so easily manipulated that it sabotaged  _ two _ of your assignments. Your security is absolute shit and I have no idea why I’m here.”

 

“Miss Lewis,” Wanda’s voice was firm, “you’re right. The security you’ve been assigned was absolute horseshit.” Darcy blinked at such open vulgarity from her mouth. Taking advantage of the college student’s derailment, Wanda pressed on. “We were lucky that McSweeney’s attempt to infiltrate our safehouse failed because, if he had succeeded, we would have failed you.”

 

Wanda faced her squarely, so that Darcy knew for certain how serious she was. “We won’t let luck keep you safe anymore. From now on, we’re going to do everything right.”

 

“We take your wellbeing very seriously, Miss Lewis,” Shade added gently, his voice filled with compassion and regret. “We already have an idea for your new protection. It is, by far, a plan that will keep you safer than any of our clients, former or current, possessed. If you let us, we will do everything in our power to succeed in the second chance you gave us.”

 

Darcy stood there, absorbing the two faces in front of her, one hopeful and the other expectant. And she helplessly thought, what else was she going to do?

 

Darcy rubbed a hand against her forehead. “Alright, fine,” Darcy mumbled, a wave of exhaustion overtaking her.

 

Shade had a clear expression of reassurance and gratitude. “Thank you, Miss Lewis, for putting your trust in us once again.”

 

“Just don’t let me down.”

 

He tilted his head. “We will not fail you again.”

 

Wanda said, “What’s your plan?”

 

He told them.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

“This is such a bad idea.”

 

Shade’s face was twisted in confusion. “What makes you believe this is a bad idea?”

 

“Oh, so many reasons.” Darcy glanced out of the car to the approaching townhouse. “There are so many reasons I could choose from that blatantly support the fact that me living in the place where you and Wanda call home is such a terrible idea.”

 

“Nonsense,” he said mildly. “It makes perfect sense. Our house is known to have the best security in the city of New York. All of the guards in place have been personally vetted by Wanda and I. We have known each of them for years and trust them with our lives and, in conjunction, yours. It is the safest place you could possibly be.”

 

“He’s right,” Wanda put in her two cents. “You’ll be closer to us. We can keep close watch and know you won’t be near anyone who is compromised like McSweeney was.”

 

“Besides,” Shade added, “we promised you we’d keep you safe. Would you let us break our promise to you by refusing to stay in the safest location we have?”

 

Darcy pouted and crossed her arms. Well, when they put it like  _ that _ , what else could she say?

 

The car pulled to a stop in front of the front entrance and the door was instantly opened by a guard and Shade said to both women courteously, “After you.”

 

The three of them walked through the gorgeous awning. A rug brightened the entrance and cleverly matched the chandelier over it. Darcy felt like she should have checked to see if her feet were clear before entering.

 

An elderly woman waited for them inside, her face beautifully creased with laughter lines and her eyes soft with warmth. “Vision, Wanda. Добро пожаловать домой, дети.”

 

Shade walked up to her and embraced her fondly. “Milena.” He kissed her on the cheek. Wanda joined them, touching Milena’s shoulder. She smiled in response and cupped Wanda’s cheek.

 

Darcy, feeling like an interloper, shifted uncomfortably on her heels and looked away.

 

Shade remembered her presence. “Milena, this is Darcy Lewis. She will be staying with us for a while. Miss Lewis, this is the house manager, Milena.”

 

Milena walked up to her with just as much warmth as she had for Shade and Wanda. “Wonderful to meet you, Miss Lewis. If you need anything, please come to me.”

 

Darcy managed a smile. “Thank you. And please, call me Darcy.”

 

Her smile widened; she’d liked Darcy’s response. She tutted. “Oh, you poor thing, you’ve been through too much. Come, let’s get you settled. I already have your room prepared for you.”

 

“What the hell is this?”

 

Darcy and Milena turned to see James Barnes striding towards them, his jacket and tie gone and his shirt unbuttoned near the collar. He had a scowl on his face.

 

“Sir,” Shade greeted him serenely. “Did you not have a meeting scheduled fifteen minutes ago?”

 

“Forget about the meeting,” Barnes snapped. “I want to know why a client is in my house.”

 

Darcy gaped.  _ His _ house?

 

Nobody contradicted his statement and Darcy sent two of them an accusatory glare.  _ Our _ house, you said?

 

“Miss Lewis’ safe house was compromised,” Shade explained. “McSweeney was outed as a traitor and the Albanians made an attempt on her life. Wanda managed to extract her, but she can no longer stay at the Skua House. She must stay here.”   
  


“No,” Bucky contradicted, “she’s not.”

 

Darcy expected that to be the end of the debate, for her to turn around and go back to square one, when Shade said, “Yes, she is.”

 

Barnes, looking downright furious now, opened his mouth to argue, but Shade spoke first. “Sir, I made a promise— _ we _ made a promise—to keep her safe. If you turn her away now, then we forfeit the right to make any sort of oath in the future.”

 

“А как насчет других наших рабочих мест?” Bucky demanded. Darcy was thrown at the change in language, completely losing the conversation. “Мы не можем позволить ей открыть наши другие операции, или мы действительно терпеть неудачу ее, когда мы ее убить, чтобы держать язык за зубами.”

 

“Он не придет к этому,” Wanda said. “Мы можем держать ее занят, имея ее модернизации компьютерных систем. Она будет слишком отвлечены, чтобы заметить большие признаки и предположим, остальное является естественной частью управления безопасности компании.”

 

“А если она что-то заметить, что она не должна быть?”

 

“Мы будем осторожны. Она не будет.”

 

“Ты избегаешь мой вопрос,” he pressed.

 

“Тогда мы будем заботиться о ней, сэр,” Shade responded. Whatever the language was, it sounded downright strange in Shade’s British accent. Was it Russian? “То, что мы делаем, может быть бесполезным, но мы должны хотя бы попытаться.”

 

Barnes paused, weighing what they had said. “Fine,” he said in English. “But she’s your responsibility.”

 

The two nodded. “Yes, sir,” Shade said.

 

Barnes looked her way with an indecipherable expression on his face. “Give me the report when I get back.”

 

“Yes, sir,” they both said dutifully.

 

With that, Barnes was out the door, sliding into the car waiting for him. They drove off.

 

“This way, Miss Darcy.” Milena ushered her up the stairs.

 

Darcy wouldn’t have it. “Oh, no, no, no, no. You all are  _ not _ getting out of this that easily. Why the hell didn’t you mention that this was  _ your boss’ house _ , the CEO of the company you work for?”

 

“It was necessary to get you here, just as it was necessary for Mr. Barnes to agree to your temporary residency here. And we didn’t lie, exactly; Wanda and I do live here as well.”

 

“Yeah, but—”

 

“Enough,” Milena said firmly. “You’re staying here now. No arguments.”

 

Darcy still tried to protest but Milena wasn’t having any of it. She herded Darcy up the stairs (damn, the woman was strong), away from Shade and Wanda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that all of the Russian in this (and future) chapters are courtesy of Google Translate. If there are any native Russian readers out there, feel free to message me with correct translations!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received A LOT of comments from people wishing to read the translations of the Russian dialogue from last chapter. For those who haven't read the comment threads and want to read them as well, I posted them on Tumblr [here](https://infinisei.tumblr.com/post/165493469473/translated-version-of-shakedown-chapter-6). From now on, if there is any other language other than English in future chapters, I'll be sure to post the translations on Tumblr and link them in the notes. Don't be afraid to remind me to do it if the link isn't in the notes (I hope to remember each time but you never know).
> 
> And with that, enjoy!

In the only way Darcy could see to express her disapproval, Darcy unpacked. Very slowly. While epically sulking.

 

Yes, the reason she was sulking and settling into CEO James Barnes’ place was because the house manager Milena gave her a stern look and said, “No more protests, Miss Darcy. Now, unpack your clothes and come downstairs for brunch.”

 

Milena shut the door behind her, leaving Darcy in her newly-designated room with the bags someone had filled with her stuff from the Skua House and put them at the foot of her new bed. Muttering nastily, she had zipped open the bags, picked out her neatly-folded belongings and tried to figure out where to put them in the massive walk-in closet. Then, feeling uncomfortable with how sticky and gross her skin was (and wanting to avoid the people downstairs for just a little while longer), she peeled off her clothes and hopped in the shower. Nothing like a good scalding hot shower to clear your thoughts and prepare you for what was to come.

 

Finally, with nothing else to distract her, Darcy wandered down the staircase and through the halls until she found the kitchen. Milena was at the stove, cooking what smelled like pancakes, and Shade and Wanda were sitting at the island, talking about logistics to something.

 

Wanda noticed her first. “Darcy, come in. Milena’s making blini for us.”

 

Darcy took a seat on the side to the left of the MPS employees, facing perpendicular to them. Darcy dropped her eyes to find a steaming plate of thin pancakes in front of her. Startled, she looked up to see Milena setting plates for the other two. Both gave her their heartfelt gratitude and started digging in. Automatically, Darcy copied them, bringing a bite to her mouth and legitimately moaning at the taste. They weren’t the traditional pancakes she was used to, but they were infinitely better than anything she could imagine. Milena, who was doing the dishes, flashed a smugly satisfied look at her.

 

“Now, Miss Lewis,” Shade began. “I’ve been thinking. Considering we have had a traitor in our ranks for a significant period of time, we need a technical expert to look over our systems to determine if any of them have been compromised.”

 

“ _ You _ want  _ me _ to look over your system? But I’m not even an expert; I don’t even have a minor in CS, let alone a major or masters.”

 

Shade dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “From what I’ve gathered, you are more than qualified to give me a reasonably accurate report of the security of our systems. One of our specialists will be able to return to New York City to execute a more thorough and professional scan, but for now, you are the best I have.”

 

Darcy took the time to process that. Well, she’d promised Kat she’d do what she could to help her if she needed it. She swallowed thickly at the thought. This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she had constantly offered her services to the Skua House gang, but it was close enough that she definitely felt she had an obligation. She swallowed another bite of omelette. “Yeah, sure. It’ll definitely keep me busy from going insane and breaking things in here, at least.”

 

“Excellent,” Shade polished off his omelette. “Milena, that was simply delicious; you’ve truly outdone yourself once again.”

 

The woman hit him lightly with a dish towel. “Oh, you charmer.”

 

“I believe you’re referring to Bucky, not myself,” Shade said dryly. “Wanda, could you guide Darcy to the IT room before you leave?”

 

Wanda, whose mouth was full, waved at him.

 

“Thank you.” Then, Darcy found herself completely taken aback when Shade swooped down and pressed a kiss to Wanda’s cheek. She batted him away with a smile and, chuckling, Shade left.

 

Ignoring Darcy’s dumbfounded expression, Wanda rose from her chair and told her, “Come on, I’ll show you where the systems are.”

Darcy followed Wanda down to the basement, where servers and computers took up every inch of available space. Dazed at the sight, Darcy absently thanked Wanda and heard the woman return up the stairs. Pulling up the initial scans of the whole system, Darcy was not-so-pleasantly surprised to find out it would take her several weeks, if not more, for her to map out the entire thing, let alone form an assessment.

Darcy let out an explosive sigh. Yup, definitely wouldn’t be bored during her time here. Welp, she might as well get started now.

She set to work.

✪ ✪ ✪

Hours later, when her brain was feeling too fuzzy and sluggish to continue, Darcy emerged from the basement. She returned to the kitchen, where Milena lay in wait for her to cluck and shove food at her. It seemed like inhabitants of the house would be out late, so there was no point in waiting to have dinner with them. Someone did take a small amount of pity on her.

While she was being thoroughly stubbed to the brim, Darcy couldn’t help but ask, “I heard the name Bucky mentioned earlier but haven’t met him; does he live here too?”

Milena laughed. “You have met him. In fact, he was stubbornly trying to get you out of this house.”

There was no way. “James Barnes is Bucky? The flirt Shade was talking about? What?”

“Bucky has been Mr. Barnes’ nickname for a long time now.”

“But I hear Shade and Wanda calling him ‘sir’ and ‘Mr. Barnes’ all the time.”

“They are all close friends but when doing business, they make a point to make it as professional as possible. Well, as professional as Miss Wanda will let them get.”

“Huh…”

“Be patient. You’ll hear their nicknames soon enough.”

Darcy changed the subject. “So how long have Shade and Wanda been together?”

“Ever since they met, really. Six years ago. They were truly meant for one another; everyone could see it.”

“That’s super cool. How long have you been here working in this house?”

“This home? Two years. For Mr. Barnes? Since he was seventeen.”

“That young?” Darcy leaned back and intertwined her fingers over her stomach.

Milena’s smile was fond. “Oh, yes. Even then, such a sweet boy. Fell in love with my syrniki and wouldn’t stop following me, begging me to make more, ever since.”

Darcy tried to picture the image. Her heartstrings tugged. She found herself attempting to match the image with the one she had seen today; no matter what she did, they couldn’t align. What could have happened to change Barnes from the adorable child Milena described to the hard, snarling man she’d experienced today, she didn’t know.

“Well, I know I’ll definitely be begging you to give me the recipe of that pasta,” Darcy said brightly. “Seriously, I can’t remember having pasta that good.”

“It’s a family recipe, Miss Darcy,” the elder woman said coyly. “Passed down for twelve generations.”

“Hey, I’m practically family now, aren’t I?” Darcy wheedled. “I’ve had two meals of yours, got ordered around by you, and dutifully unpacked like you told me to.”

Her eyes danced with humor. “Nice try,  Светляк .”

Darcy shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll convince you. What is it you just called me?”

✪ ✪ ✪

Darcy tried to settle into the new space. Maybe it was because she was in a more secure place, but settling in felt easier and more difficult than it did at the Skua House. It was without question that Milena helped her relax and make her feel more comfortable. Sure, Wanda and Shade did their best, but they had full-time jobs to attend to and they simply weren’t in the house a good portion of the day. Even on weekend they were working, the workaholics. Because of it, Darcy interacted the most with the house manager and, while she still hadn’t given Darcy that recipe, she made her some of her favorite meals from her homeland Russia and Darcy savored every last bite while the other woman told her stories of her childhood. Darcy very pointedly ignored the extra pounds she was gaining.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t holding a part of herself back, the memory of Kat, Vladimir, and Anatoli’s still bodies still in the back of her mind.

It’s not that she didn’t interact with anyone. She regularly chatted with the security guards who were assigned the basement and the third floor she inhabited. One of them was a football fan and they’d had beautiful discussions about who was the best team. She tried not to listen to the suspicious voice in the back of her mind. She was safe here. She just needed her head to get with the program.

She also hung out with Wanda a time or two. She was the one who was at the house the most and Darcy would occasionally manipulate her into watching a movie together. Funnily enough, Wanda didn’t even know how to work the DVR, so Darcy had to call Shade and ask where the remote was. That had been a funny talk.

But tonight was a Thursday night and Wanda had work to do (“It shouldn’t be  _ that _ dangerous. Probably. Don’t worry about me.”) so Darcy was on her own watching  _ The Big Short _ .

She was at the scene with Selena Gomez when she stretched, her arms coming up above her head and her neck arching to bend with her spine. She opened her eyes to see Barnes leaning in the doorway upside down, watching her.

“Oh!” She sat up so quickly she got a head rush. She swiveled around to get a look at him right side up. He was dressed more casually in a dark henley and low-rise jeans and looking damn good in them. He surveyed her with a blank expression. “Do you need the room?”   
  


He shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” He didn’t move from his position.

Darcy refused to have this guy hover over her while being entertained by Ryan Gosling and Steve Carell. “Well, sit down, then. It’s your own house.”

There was a bit where he still stood there, looking at her, but then he finally crossed the room and sat on the other side of the couch, three feet away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any Russian natives who believe that I completely butchered Russian cuisine; I know very little about Russian meals and relied on the internet. Please feel free to message me about making it more accurate!
> 
> And if you're curious about what Milena called Darcy, click [here](https://infinisei.tumblr.com/post/165726333273/shakedown-chapter-7-translations)!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy October! Sadly, I'm slightly under the weather, which is so not what I need in my life right now but oh well. 
> 
> On another note, LadyLaner showed me how to reveal translations by hovering over text in AO3; I haven't implemented yet but will get to it soon.
> 
> Enjoy!

They both did nothing to break the silence between them, no matter how much Darcy thought about it. Soon the credits were rolling and he was off the couch and Darcy was alone.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

Late that night, Darcy lay on her bed wide awake. She hadn’t slept soundly for a good week or so and was coming to terms with becoming a permanent, incurable insomniac. To pass time, Darcy would either grab her computer and continue looking at the systems or stand at the ceiling and try not to think about all the people she knew that were dead.

 

Hushed mutterings broke her attention from the ceiling.

 

“Where the hell is he, Vision? We’ve been looking for him for almost a month now. We’ve raided every location we had on them, contained what we could, sorted through what we found, and it gave us jack shit!”  


“We’ve managed to destroy a significant portion of their holdings. The Albanians have taken a blow that will take some time to recover from.”

 

“I don’t _want_ them to _recover_ ! I _want_ Pierce and his entire organization to _burn_ to the ground.”

 

“I know you do, Bucky, and we’re trying our best. Sometimes, we have to be patient in order to make progress.”

 

“I’ve been patient for years now and we’ve barely made any progress. We have to push harder, get more feet out in the streets.”

 

“With all due respect, sir, if we put ourselves out any further than we leave ourselves vulnerable to other threats. Becca would not want—”

 

“ _Don’t bring Becca into this!_ ”

 

The shout was deafening against the whispers. The house held completely still.

 

There were heavy footsteps, then the slamming of a door. More murmurings followed, this time with a woman’s voice intermixed. They soon faded.

 

Darcy’s eyes were wide open, the words she’d just heard flittering around in her head.

 

She wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

“How is your progress on your work, Miss Lewis?”

 

“Hmm?” She lifted bleary eyes at the man sitting next to her.

 

“Your work, Miss Lewis,” Shade, ever so polite, showed no signs of irritation at having to repeat himself.

 

“It’s taking longer than I thought. Despite how much I complained to you about how crappy it is, the system is actually hella complex. I honestly think that the only reason I saw it so buggy was because McSweeney had inserted stupidly easy viruses with his access; it wouldn’t have been possible any other day.”

 

“Way, I believe you mean.”

 

She cocked her head in confusion. “Didn’t I just say that?”

 

Shade and Wanda traded glances. “No, you said ‘day,’’’ Wanda said.

 

“Oh, my bad.” Darcy picked at the salad in front of her. Without her knowledge, Milena peered at her in concern.

 

Shade’s phone beeped. Slowly, Shade rose. “Time to go.” Wanda began gathering her things. “See you both tonight.”

 

Wanda, up from her seat, took one last look at Darcy. She turned to Milena. “следить за ней.”

 

At Milena’s nod, they both left.

 

Darcy didn’t notice any of this. She was wondering about Culver, if her friends had already forgotten that she had once been there. She mused if Culver had decided to let her go since she hadn’t contacted them after her leave of absence expired. She was curious if her parents were worried about where she was yet.

 

“Miss Darcy?”

 

Darcy broke her stare of her salad to focus on Milena. “How about you take a nap, Светляк? You look tired.”

 

Darcy shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well last night. I have to go down to the basement; I’m behind and have to catch up. Thanks anyway, Milena.”

 

Darcy exited the kitchen with eyes on her back.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

“Are you sure you’re alright, ma’am?”

 

“I’m sure,” she spoke to the guard Noah. “I just want to ask you couple questions about your security protocol during an emergency.”

 

He nodded warily. “If you’re sure you’re up for it, ma’am.”

 

“I’m perfectly sure. Why is everyone so worried about me?” she yawned.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

She was so, _so_ tired.

 

She could barely keep her eyes open, she was so exhausted. She had persevered and stayed awake for...how many hours? She couldn’t count. Everything was one big blur.

 

She was at her breaking point. If she stayed in this bed for one more second, she knew she’d crash and then she’d wake up screaming and facing things she _so_ didn’t want to see. Better to be dead on her feet than face what was waiting for her in unconsciousness.

 

With that in mind, she crept out of the room and into the hallway. The place was dark and Darcy could barely make out the outlines of the place. She tiptoed through the hallway and down the stairs. With no one sleeping on the first floor, she walked more confidently and curiously peeked into each room. A few were offices, one a bathroom, one had an electric keypad keeping it locked. She cracked open a door and found the shelves filled with books. A library.

 

Intrigued, Darcy stepped in and explored the spines. A good amount were in several different languages and the ones that were in English ranged in topic and genre and era. She was impressed at the variety.

 

She stumbled across a hardback with no title on its spine and pulled it out. It tilted too far and fell to the ground with a thud. She bent to pick it up and was returning it to its place when something encircled her neck and yanked, choking her and making her release the book to the floor. Gasping for air, her hands went for her throat and scrabbled at something metal and unyielding.

 

She was spun around until she painfully hit the wall. The noose tightened even more, then released suddenly, leaving her greedily inhaling oxygen. She clutched her throat to make sure it was really gone.

 

When her eyes finally came into focus, the first thing she saw was the metal absorbing what little light there was in the room. It was sculpted and shaped into an arm worthy of any ancient Greek sculpture. The arm was attached to a man.

 

James Barnes stood in front of her, shirtless. And he had a metal arm.

 

It took Darcy a couple seconds to whisper hoarsely, “Why? What did I do to deserve having a dream about being choked in the middle of the night?”

 

His chest rose and fell with his rapid breaths. He murmured back, “Thought you were an intruder. Why are you in this room at this time of night?”

 

“I couldn’t sleep so I wanted to have a midnight stroll. Milena said I could explore any room that was unlocked.” She sounded a little defensive, but so what? “Or, I thought I couldn’t sleep. Guess I finally passed out without realizing. I must be in hella dreamland to come up with a badass metal arm like that. Do you need to polish it a lot to keep it so shiny?”

 

Barnes took a shuddering breath. Looking more closely, Darcy could kind of see that the guy looked slightly rattled. She struggled to keep her eyes from his torso and arm. She lost the struggle.

 

Aesthetically, the arm was beautiful, the most beautiful prosthetic she’d ever seen. Each plate was crafted to form each cord of muscle. The arm itself appeared to have been grafted to his shoulder. Darcy could make out a peek of red right on the side of his shoulder.

 

He shifted uncomfortable and Darcy broke her examination. _Quit gawking at the poor man, Darcy, jeez._ Being a creeper, even in a dream, felt a little icky. Plus, it looked like he had been through enough and did not deserve her inappropriateness. And this desire to drive out the haunted look hanging over him made her speak. “What do you recommend?”

 

“What?”

 

She motioned her hand at all the books. “Which one should I read?”

 

He assessed her critically. “Looks like you shouldn’t be reading at all. You’re about to fall over on your feet.”

 

She scowled and crossed her arms. “Why does everyone keep telling me that?”

 

He cocked his eyebrow. “Probably because it’s true.”

 

“Well, maybe I don’t want sleep. Has anyone thought about that?”

 

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say; his probing gaze deepened. She changed the subject. “And what about you? You’re the one who woke up at the barely-there noise I made walking around.”

 

He grunted. “‘M the one who’s supposed to keep the house safe.”

 

Her nose wrinkled. “Isn’t that supposed to be the guards’ jobs?”

 

“You know more than most that the guards don’t always do their jobs.”

 

As that unsettling moment sank in, Barnes backed away. “Get some sleep. You need it, even if you think you don’t.”

 

He vanished into the shadows.

 

She said to herself, “This totally wasn’t a dream, wasn’t it.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

That morning, Darcy stumbled into the kitchen to find Barnes sipping coffee in the seat next to her usual spot. He wore a long-sleeved button down, but a quick glance down found gleaming metal for his hand. Darcy warily sat down, accepted Milena’s breakfast with a murmured glance, and watched him out of the corner of her eye.

 

Barnes scarfed down two plates’ worth of breakfast before putting the utensils into the sink. He left with a brush of his arm against her back and a glance at her in farewell.

  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few days ago when I had time on my hands, I looked more into doing the hover text skin on the translations. Unfortunately, I found out that because one of the languages is in Russian, I'd have to look up the CSS ISO code for each character, which is way too much work for the amount of translations I'm doing. So, sorry, hover text isn't happening. How would you all feel if I just put it at the end of the chapter instead of posting it on Tumblr? Let me know...
> 
> Anyway, onto the next chapter!

The next time she hid out in the library late at night was a few days later. She carefully opened the door and whirled to close it silently, so that she wouldn’t have the same wonderful experienced she’d had when she was too loud.

 

It was all for nothing; she got the same amount of trauma from being choked as turning a lamp on and Barnes’ face being illustrated in the armchair to her left.

 

“Jesus Batman!” she breathed. “Do you enjoy trying to give me a heart attack?”

 

He said nothing.

 

She huffed. “Thanks for the articulate answer; I feel so much better now.”

 

She went to get the book that caught her eye the other day: _Headstrong_. She fully accepted that she was a nerd.

 

Plopping herself down on the sofa, she craned her neck to get a good look at the shelves that ran up the two-story wall and the ladder leaning against it. “This house is ridiculously too good to be true,” she absently muttered as she cracked open her book. “No wonder you got the place.”

 

She glanced at his face and found him looking at the same wall with an overwhelming lack of affection or interest. She returned to her book and began reading.

 

A few hours later, she paused just as she was about to leave for her room. “Can I ask a question?”

 

He sat motionless. She asked anyway. “Why didn’t you want me here so much?”

 

She waited there for so long with no response that she eventually gave up.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

The door burst open and hands were grabbing her covers, yanking them away from her body. “Up, up, up, Светляк. You’re coming with me to work today.”

 

The college student moaned and burrowed herself away from Wanda’s insistent hands. “Wha’? _No_. Why?”

 

“There won’t be as many guards here today because they’re being reassigned, which means the house is vulnerable. So, you’re coming to MPS with me. Come on, get dressed.”

 

Much to her whining, Darcy was dragged out of bed and shoved into the closet to get dressed. Fifteen minutes later, she was in the car with Wanda at her side. Darcy was dressed in simple slacks and a cream blouse, but Wanda, Darcy noticed, was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and leggings.

 

“Why did some of the guards have to be reassigned so suddenly?” Darcy wondered.

 

“There was an unexpected assignment that needed more men,” Wanda said vaguely. “They should be back tomorrow.”

 

Wanda gave her a spare desk and chair to assess the systems as Wanda worked. Wanda pointed to a phone on another desk. “If you need anything, call me or flag someone down and tell them you need me.”

 

“Okay, thanks.”

 

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Wanda lingered.

 

Darcy waved her away. “Yes, yes. Go on, save people and kick some ass with your badass skills.”

 

A few hours into staring at code, Darcy yawned widely and stretched, looking around the office. A few more employees had showed up and were sitting in their cubicles, some curiously looking at her. She paid them no mind, peeking into the window of Wanda’s office to see if she was there. She wasn’t.

 

Suddenly in the mood for coffee, Darcy pushed away from her desk and wandered to the elevators and floor guide. Following the sign for the break room, she grabbed a mug and filled it to the brim. She sat down and inhaled its lovely scent.

 

Three workers, two male and one female were chatting and walked in. They each fixed themselves a cup of coffee and hung out around the fridge.

 

“No, I really think she’s doing both of them,” the male with blonde hair said.

 

 _Oh, god_. She rolled her eyes. Water cooler gossip? Was that seriously a thing? She thought it only existed in romcoms and crappy movies.

 

“There’s no way,” the girl said in disbelief. “Both of them? Without either of them knowing?”

 

“Of course they _know_ ,” the other guy responded patronizingly. He had light brown hair and a bafflingly tacky tie on. Seriously, why flamingoes? Flamingo ties should only exist in the deepest parts of hell. “They just don’t care.”

 

“I don’t buy it,” the girl said doubtfully. “I mean, one of them, sure. But both of them?”

 

“How else did she get the job as Chief Security Coordinator?” flamingo dude questioned rhetorically.

 

 _Did he just—_ Darcy’s mind went a little blank at that. _Were they talking about Wanda sleeping with Shade and Barnes to get her position?_

 

“I mean, Holly, she wears T-shirts and leggings to work every day. What are we required to wear every day as part of our contract?” He plucked at her dress. “Three-piece suits and dresses that go below your knee unless you’re in the field. The only way she could get away with it is if she were fucking both of them. Maybe at the same time.”

 

“Are you fucking listening to yourself?” Darcy snapped, furious. Her knuckles were bony white as they gripped her coffee, now forgotten.

 

Brunette made a dismissive gesture. “Private conversation here. If you don’t like it, walk away.”

 

“Like fucking hell I’m walking away from this bullshit,” she snarled, slowly rising to her feet.

 

The blonde’s grin faded into a menacing sneer. “Get out of here before I report you for inappropriate behavior in the working space. I’m the Finance Manager, you don’t want to get on my bad side.”

 

Darcy bared her teeth at him. _Sorry, dude, but I had a gun pointed a foot away from my head. Your face is nowhere near scary enough._ “My apologies. I really wouldn’t want you to report MPS’s high priority client who personally knows James Barnes, Victor Shade, _and_ Wanda Maximoff.”

 

That put the “ _oh, shit_ ” look she wanted on their faces.

 

“You’re all little pieces of shit. Miss Maximoff’s private life is none of your fucking business because she earned her position fair and square. She used her _skills_ to get her jobs, the ones she used to save me from five trained and fully armed men who were trying to kill me. She saved my life and how dare you try to pervert that.”

 

“Everything okay in here?”

 

Darcy turned to see Shade standing in the threshold. His eyebrow was raised at the four of them.

 

The three dipshits paled at the sight of the VP. Darcy smirked maliciously. “Not at all, Mr. Shade. I was just expressing my opinion to your colleagues. I think we understand each other, don’t we, dudes?”

 

The woman and the flamingo guy nodded faintly. The blonde was too shellshocked to move.

 

“Very well. Miss Lewis, if I may have a moment of your time?”

 

“Sure.” Darcy moved to the door when she noted the cup in her hand. Whoops. She rushed to clean it up, then joined Shade. As they were about to leave, Shade called, “Oh, and Mr. Dobkin, Mr. Macat, Miss Riedel. Please see me in my office at the end of the day.”

 

They left the trio, Darcy’s cackles echoing in the room.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

“Oh, _please_ fire those assholes,” Darcy pleaded as she and Shade strolled down the offices.

 

Shade chuckled at her. “You are taking great pleasure out of the thought of individuals losing their jobs.”

 

“When they’ve soulless cretins, then hells yeah. The things they were saying…” Darcy glared out a light fixture. “I’m glad I got to yell at them for that. And that you were there so that you could summon them later to yell at them some more.”

 

“You have a kind heart, Miss Lewis.”

 

That made Darcy chortle. “Oh yeah, super kind when I was just cheerfully talking about screaming at people before kicking them to the curb. That’s me.”

 

“No, you truly do have a kind heart, Miss Lewis. Thank you for extending your kindness to me and mine.”

 

Darcy smiled genuinely. “Thanks for putting up with me and all the wackiness around me, Mr. Shade. I really don’t know where I’d be without you.”

 

“Vision, please,” he insisted. “I believe we have gotten far enough in our friendship to call each other by nicknames and the like, yes?”

 

Darcy cocked her head at his wording. “I dunno, you tell me, Mr. Proper-British, sir.”

 

“I don’t understand. Is that your new nickname for me?”

 

Now Darcy was completely baffled. “It could be. Which one do you like better?”

 

“I believe I prefer the nickname Vision, as it’s been with me for quite some time and I’ve grown fond of it.”

 

“Alright, but if I’m calling you Vision now, then you have to call me Darcy. No Miss Lewis or Miss Darcy or Miss or any of that. Just Darcy. Got it?”

 

“If that is what you prefer, Darcy.”

 

“Sweetness. By the way, you have to tell me the story of how you got the name Vision.”

 

“It is quite an entertaining tale. I would be pleased to tell you the tale sometimes.”

 

“Can’t wait.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

Darcy sang softly to the music playing on the speakers of the living room. She had finally finished her analysis of MPS’s security system and started typing up her assessment.

 

“What are you listening to?”

 

It amazed her how exposure to alarms made her immune to sudden appearances of James Barnes. She barely jumped in the air. ”The soundtrack from _Hamilton_.”

 

He stood uncertainly next to the side table. “What’s _Hamilton_?”

 

She spluttered. “How do you not know _Hamilton_? It’s all everyone’s been talking about. Y’know, Lin-Manuel Miranda?”

 

He stared at her blankly. She moaned in agony. “You, sir, haven’t listening to this from the beginning. I refuse to allow you to leave this room until you’ve been properly educated.” She paused. “That is, unless you have somewhere to be?”

 

He shrugged at her and sat down.

 

She grinned. “ _Hamilton_ is a musical about Alexander Hamilton,” she clarified. “A genius named Lin-Manuel Miranda was the brains behind it.”

 

“Alexander Hami—”

 

She shushed him. “Just listen and be transformed by the masterpiece.” He dubiously relented and then they just sat there and listened.

 

When the introductory song was finished, Darcy turned to him expectantly. “Well?”

 

“It has potential,” he allowed.

 

“Poten—” she said, scandalized. “It is a _masterpiece_ , Mr. Barnes. _A masterpiece_.”

 

His legs quirked up and Darcy found herself facing a smiling James Barnes for the first time. Damn, it was a good view. Why was she suddenly surrounded by all these gorgeous people? “James.”

 

She jerked her focus back to him and not his stupidly dashing smile. “Huh?”

 

“Call me James.”

 

She blinked owlishly. “Ah, sure. It’s Darcy, then.”

 

“Darcy.”

 

Sweet mother of Doritos, the guy was dangerous. This sudden one-eighty personality-wise was also giving her whiplash. Not that she was complaining. No, no, not at all. Time to test the new boundaries.

 

“So, James, what do you consider to be masterpieces?”

 

“Mostly listen to old school stuff. Like from the forties.”

 

Darcy hummed. “Oldies but goodies.” She held out her hand. “Tell you what, I’ll listen to yours if you listen to mine next time.”

 

“Deal.” They shook on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you there was gonna be a lot of _Hamilton_ references...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late than usual, but better late than never!!!

“—and Bucky’s just standing there trying to look all innocent but Vision just told him, ‘Hand it over.’ I’d never seen Bucky so shocked and embarrassed. He reached into his boxer briefs, took out the panties, and handed it to him. And Vision just took it, said, ‘Next time, put it on the other side,’ and walked away!”

 

Darcy choked on her water and laughed. “Okay, wait. How the hell did you manage to convince a police officer to give up his badge?”

 

Wanda’s face was sly. “I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

 

Darcy snickered so hard she couldn’t breathe. “Oh God, that is epic. You’re all such rebels.”

 

“Not of my free will,” Vision said dryly. “I distinctly remember trying to stay out of it. I never worked of course, much to my dismay and their glee.”

 

“Shut up, you loved every second of it,” Wanda jabbed playfully.

 

Vision caught her hand and raised it to his lips. “Quite.”

 

Darcy looked away from their private moment with a smile. They were just so adorable together.

 

“You all were such обманщики when you were younger,” Milena said with no small amount of nostalgia. “Always running off to get tangled in trouble and come home with scrapes for me to patch up.”

 

“Don’t you get it, Milena?” Darcy leaned forward conspiratorially. “They’re still like that, only they dress in adult clothes and pretend to be grown up.”

 

She cackled and wriggled her finger. “Don’t pretend that you don’t do the same, Светляк! I see you.”

 

Darcy adopted an innocent expression and the rest of the room erupted into chuckles.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

The next time Darcy had a nightmare, she didn’t scream. She came to consciousness with a shudder and tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

She flung the covers off her and wrapped her arms around herself as she wandered through the corridors. She purposefully avoided the library this time.

 

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice the figure in front of her until she ran smack into his chest. She yelped and want into defense mode, raising her hands to scratch and hit. Hands snagged hers and held them still and Darcy revolted, throwing her whole body into the struggle. Her chest constricted and she fought to breathe against it. She couldn’t see clearly, and could hear someone trying to speak to her but couldn’t make anything out. The cord around her chest tightened and she gasped for air that wouldn’t come into her lungs.

 

“Darcy! You’re having a panic attack. Breathe slowly.”

 

Distantly, she felt herself being moved around and pressed against something. “Breathe with me. Count the breaths. One, two, three…”

 

The voice continued to count, and her hand felt a heart beating that wasn’t hers. The chest rose and fell with the count and Darcy slowly followed her, changing her breathing to match.

 

“That’s it, кукла. Breathe with me. You’re okay…”

 

With each inhale, the band around Darcy dissolved until sight and sound started filtering in again.

 

That was when Darcy realized she was sitting on the floor in James’ lap with her head tucked in his shoulder and her hand on his chest.

 

“Oh!” She sat up but was deterred when her head spun.

 

Hands steadied her. “Careful, кукла. You’re still disoriented.”

 

“‘M fine,” she mumbled. She pulled away again and he reluctantly let her when she didn’t sway. With some distance between them, Darcy could see that he was only in a pair of sweatpants and had a sheen on his skin that told her he’d just been working out. His hair was in a thoughtless disarray, and the sheen of his skin highlighted the muscles gracing every inch of him and his jawline stood out so starkly with his eyes and… Fuck, this man should come with a warning label.

 

“You’re not fine,” he pointed out bluntly. “You just had a panic attack and judging by your face, that was your first one. That plus the bags under your eyes and the color of your skin tells me you haven’t slept proper in weeks, even though I know you’ve been urged to get sleep from everyone in this house.”

 

She kept her gaze on her fidgeting fingers. A hand came to her chin to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

 

Exhausted tears flooded her. “I can’t—I can’t sleep,” she blurted. “Not when people are trying to kill me and have already killed the people around me to get what they want. And I can’t...I can’t stop seeing their faces.”

 

She sobbed out the pain and frustration and fear that had bottled up inside her for so long.

 

A tug had her within the circle of his arms. “Shh…” he murmured. “It’s okay. You’re safe here, кукла. No one can hurt you here.”

 

His soft reassurances and warm strength settled her and eventually her tears subsided. Feeling embarrassed again— _you’ve only exchanged a dozen words with this guy and suddenly you’re sobbing into his shoulder, Darcy?_ —she wiped the tears and snot from her face as she pushed away from him.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

Avoiding looking at him, she simply nodded.

 

“Good. Now, I need you to understand something.” He grasped her chin again to make sure she was looking dead in his eyes when he said, “Those deaths were not your fault. They never were and they never will be. The blame falls on the Albanian mafia,” an ugly shadow crossed over his face, “and not you. And no matter how hard they try, they will never touch you, never lay eyes on you again. They won’t ever hurt you. I won’t allow it. Do you understand?”

 

Trapped in his words and gaze as if she were a fly in a spider’s hold, she nodded helplessly. The fierceness of his declaration and the sincerity in every line of his face eased something she hadn’t known was hurting, she for the first time since she fell asleep in that coffee shop, she relaxed fully. Her awareness of her surroundings faded and a new, undeniable wave of exhaustion swept through her. She slumped against him.

 

“Sleep now, кукла. You deserve it. No more nightmares and guilt.”

 

As she walked away towards her room, she made sure to turn around and whisper, “Thank you.” And after she crawled under the covers and drifted off, she slept peacefully.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

The first thought that came into Darcy’s head was that her mouth felt as if a sock had been stuffed into it for hours. She rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, hating the lack of saliva. She peeled her lids open and stretched languidly with a groan.

 

Bright light streamed through the cracks of the curtains. It must have been late morning. She glanced at the clock. Two o’clock... _in the afternoon_? She’d slept for twelve hours?

 

She ambled downstairs in her pajamas. Milena was sweeping the floor. She brightened at the sight of the girl. “Miss Darcy! You had a good sleep?”

 

“Must have. I’ve never slept for so long, no matter how hard I’ve tried.”

 

“Well, you must be starving. Let’s get you something to eat. Would you like to try some eggs?”

 

“Love some.”

 

Milena moved around the kitchen as if she’d been there her entire life. She would stir and add ingredients in between prep and clean the bowls she just used. She was the perfect definition of efficiency.

 

Her mouth watered when the final product was set down in front of her. “You are a goddess in the kitchen and it will take a few dozen decades than I have to get to your skill.”

 

She clucked. “You’re as much a flatterer as Mr. Barnes. I have just done what I love.”

 

“How long have you been cooking for?”

 

“The first time I was in the kitchen was when I was six years old. I didn’t make my first meal until I was twelve. Pirog. I set fire to the stuffing. Almost burned down my home.”

 

“Yikes,” Darcy grinned. “Most’ve gotten in _so_ much trouble with the parental figures.”

 

“Eventually, I tried again. I won back my mother’s graces through my vatrushka.”

 

“That’s awesome. Note to self: win back parents’ forgiveness with self-cooked meals.” She dimmed slightly. “That is, if I see my parents again.”

 

“Of course you will,” the housemaid said firmly.

 

“What will Darcy do?” Wanda walked in with Vision and James.

 

“See Светляк’s parents,” Milena said.

 

Wanda’s head whipped towards her. “Why wouldn’t you see them?”

 

Darcy raised her hands. “Um, who is the one who is hiding out because there’s a good chance I’ll disappear and won’t be found again?”

 

“How many times do we have to tell you that won’t happen?” Vision said with disapproval. She caught a scowl before Barnes took a drink.

 

“No, you convinced me,” Darcy said grudgingly. “But the fact is, there’s no way in hell I can tell my parents that I’m wanted by a mafia and I can’t convince them that I’m off school for a good reason I can’t tell them, so… And besides, I’m on my way to being kicked out of Culver if I haven’t already because I disappeared and haven’t told them I’m on leave.”

 

That stumped them all. Vision frowned. “I’m sorry, Darcy. I did not realize.”

 

Even with her rejuvenating body, a sort of weariness settled over her. “It really is fine, Vis. There’s nothing you can do about it. I’d prefer to live than be educated and have my parents not be mind-bogglingly worried about me.”

 

Vision still seemed adorably upset about it. Wanda gripped her hand in comfort. Bucky stood close, his presence a comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> обманщики = tricksters  
> кукла = doll  
> Светляк = firefly


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my laptop's in the shop now for repairs, hence this update coming slightly later than usual. Apologies! Hopefully, this chapter will make up for it.

Darcy wandered downstairs around seven to meet for the house’s regularly scheduled dinner. Expecting for the whole gang to be home from work at MPS and for Milena to be about to serve dinner, she stopped short at the sight of only Bucky pouring wine for two. Two plates were already full and the island was set.

 

“Everyone else okay?” She stepped in further.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “Vision and Wanda had an assignment and Milena likes to take the day off a couple days a month to spend with her children.”

 

Stopping at the back of one of the chairs, she leaned against the back of it with her forearms. “She has kids? She’d never told me about them.”

 

He handed her a glass of wine. “She doesn’t like to talk about them since she can’t see them a lot.”

 

There was a can of worms there that did not look willing to be opened. Darcy avoided it for right then. “So it’s just us.”

 

“Just us,” he paused to look at her cautiously. “If that’s okay.”

 

Darcy gave him an incredulous smile. “Of course that’s okay.”

 

He relaxed slightly. They both sat down and Darcy took in the spread. “So if Milena’s out, then who made dinner?”

 

“I did.”

 

Darcy raised an eyebrow, impressed. Bucky shrugged. “Milena wanted to make sure I wasn’t completely useless when fending for myself. She made it so that when I was on my own for a bit that I didn’t starve to death, burn something, or give up and order pizza.”

 

Darcy took a bite and made a noise of pleasure. “Well, she did excellent work whipping you into shape. This is amazing.”

 

“Thanks,” Bucky said, smiling softly in a way he hadn’t ever done in front of her before.

 

They ate in silence for a moment, the clinks of utensils against the plates filling the room.

 

“You’re not used to men knowing how to cook?” Bucky finally asked.

 

“Not at all. My dad regularly cooks when he’s not at work. He makes a mean sausage pasta. My uncle’s even a chef.”

 

“Where are you from exactly?”

 

“Outskirts of Vegas. Yay casinos.” She infused as much sarcastic enthusiasm as she could.

 

He raised an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, that’s pretty much how everyone reacts when I tell non-Nevadans where I’m from.”

 

“And how do you respond to them?”

 

“I tell them that it could be worse.” When he looked at her expectantly, she clarified, “I could be from Ohio. People hate Ohio way more than they hate Vegas.”

 

He snorted into his drink.

 

“Please don’t say you’re from Texas or Tennessee.”

 

“Nah, I’m from Brooklyn.”

 

“Really?” She gave him a considering look. “You know, that was not what I expected.”

 

Bucky grinned, tilting his head towards her. “I’m good at fooling people into thinking I’m a city boy, when really I’m just a simple boy with a simple upbringing,” he said, a Brooklyn drawl suddenly in full force.

 

She blinked owlishly. “Holy crap, dude.”

 

“Sounds too weird?”

 

“No! Actually, you should bring out that accent more.”

 

“Think investors will fold as soon as I flash the accent?” he joked.

 

“I think it’s as likely as me not going to the gym. So yeah, pretty good odds.”

 

“Not much into exercise?”

 

“Mm, depends on what kind of exercise you’re talking about.” _Are we flirting? How did flirting happen?_

 

He leaned towards her, his stance confident and suggestive. “I’d be happy to exercise with you.”

 

They stared at each other for a moment.

 

She broke first, the tension having her desperately searching for a different topic. “So, how did a boy from Brooklyn end up founding a multi-million dollar company?”

 

He shrugged. “Luck. Talked to the right people with the right idea at the right time.”

 

She smiled easily. “Did you still have that accent when you were building a company from scratch?”

 

Bucky smiled, though it was not with the same ease as earlier. “Can’t say that I did.” He tossed his napkin onto the table. “And you?”

 

“Well, I can’t say I have anything other than my boring _Vegas_ accent, which unfortunately was still present in my pronunciation of high school Spanish.”

 

“Such a wise gal. I meant, what’s your story?”

 

She shrugged. “Fairly boring. Grew up on the outskirts of Vegas, decided I liked history and arguing with people enough to major in it. So, I packed my bags and went to the other side of the country.” Her eyes dropped to the table. “Then my BFF turned out to be a lying, immoral scumbag and my life spiralled out of control.”

 

His expression sobered.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be a downer.” She tried to shake off the feeling of bitterness and hurt that always accompanied thoughts of Ian.

 

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. For what it’s worth, I don’t think your pal was as much of a fathead as you think he is.”

 

Darcy was skeptical. “Really?”

 

Bucky nodded absently, his eyes distant. “Sure. Scared boy with no prospects and desperate enough for money that he runs into the wrong crowd. Gets in way over his head before he even realizes what’s going on. Does his best to survive, doing things that he isn’t comfortable with, then decides he can’t do it anymore. Tries to get out, but it just doesn’t end up working out, and he ends up paying for a good-intentioned mistake with his life.”

 

Images of that night in the coffee shop flashed before her eyes. “That doesn’t mean what he did wasn’t idiotic. And the fact that he didn’t tell the authorities or his families or—” _Me_. Her teeth clacked shut.

 

He hummed, his eyes distant.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

“I really just cannot comprehend this,” Darcy ranted dramatically as they all exited the elevator to the parking garage of MPS. “It’s just too incredible to be true. Too impossible. And blasphemous.”

 

“ _That_ is your definition of blasphemy?” Bucky drawled, his tie loose around his neck and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his forearms after a long day. “We need to work on redefining your version of blasphemy.”

 

Heat flashed through her. Darcy did her best to ignore it as they walked towards where they parked the car. “How is it that _none_ of you have social media accounts? No Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr…”

 

“We all have a Facebook.”

 

Darcy skeptically poked Wanda. “Company Facebook pages do not count.”

 

Wanda shrugged in defeat at that. Vision was just confused. “I do not understand the reason for such dramatics over our lack of participation of social media. Is it a new requirement for social interaction?”

 

“No. Well, yes, kinda.” Darcy expressed her frustration for not finding the right way to describe this with the waving of her hands. “It’s now a socially accepted thing to have an account on a least one of the popular apps.”

 

Vision tilted his head. “Therefore, it is merely an invisible construct that society places upon itself to make its followers appear to be part of a community that has no purpose or true emotional value?”

 

Darcy gaped at him. “Well…when you put it like that, yeah. Pretty much.”

 

Vision shook his head in bafflement. “I will never understand why people put themselves in such unnecessary and trivial boundaries.”

 

Bucky laughed at Darcy’s astonishment at their friend. “Yeah, whatever he said.”

 

“He took the words right out of my mouth,” Wanda smirked.

 

Darcy sighed. “You three are no fun.”

 

“Mr. Barnes?” A man interrupted them. He wore slacks and a button-up shirt and stood next to a car parked only a handful of spaces next to their car. More men filed out of the vehicle as he approached them.

 

To Darcy’s confusion, her three companions tensed. “Yes?” Bucky responded as he drew closer to her.

 

“I have a message from a colleague of yours,” the man explained. “The Triad wishes for the Bratva to remove themselves from their business, Winter Soldier. In fact, they insist upon it.”

 

Things moved too quickly for Darcy to track after that. One second she was standing, looking at the guy, the next she was on the ground between two cars with Bucky crouching forward in front of her. The gunshots still rang in her ears. Vision and Wanda were crouched closer to the back ends of the cars and both had guns in their hands. Where had those guns come from?

 

“Take her, алый,” Bucky growled. His voice was darker than Darcy ever heard it. It sent a shiver tingling across the back of her neck.

 

Wanda instantly complied, hauling Darcy up onto her feet. “Cover us.” Vision straightened out from his cover in the car and shot at the gunmen while Wanda tugged her along with her in a sprint to back exit. The screeching of tires and the roar of an engine could be heard approaching behind them.

 

“What’s going on?” Darcy shouted as two vans screeched into the garage. Wanda shoved her behind a pillar. Needing to see what was going on, she peeked out to the side of the makeshift shield. Shots rang out as Vision and Bucky (when did he get a gun?) shot at the vehicles. One blew a tire and another hit the windshield, sending both spinning out of control. As soon as the first squealed to a stop and the second crashed into the wall, men heavily armed with massive guns pouring out, their barrels pointed at her two boys. There were at least a dozen men, and Bucky stepped out between the parked cars to meet them. Her terror crept up higher.

 

“Say you are willing to back off and this will end without us killing you,” one of them called out in a heavy accent.

 

“The Bratva does not negotiate our businesses,” Bucky replied in calm and deadly voice.

 

“Then you die,” the guy said.

 

Bucky’s smile was feral. “No. _We_ won’t.”

 

The men opened fire and Bucky twisted his left arm to block the shots aimed at him. Vision ducked behind a car and disappeared.

 

Bucky steadily crept found and moved his arm infinitesimally. Two men cried out when the ricocheted bullets hit them and Bucky used it to cross enough distance where shooting was no longer an option.

 

That was when he attacked.

 

He moved so fast it was superhuman. He struck one man closest to him in the throat, another in the side of the thigh, and a third in the side of his head. He was ruthless in his attack, exerting the entirety of his power into his movements. All three dropped to the ground. Only one got back up. Others converged to fill in the gaps but quickly fell back when Bucky turned on them with a knife that appeared out of nowhere. Two of them came back for a second try but the third drew back further and pulled a handgun from his waist to aim at Bucky.

 

Darcy opened her mouth to shout a warning but her words were drowned out by the sound of a gunshot. Her head swiveled, searching for any signs that the bullet hit Bucky. She wasn’t finding any when a thud caught her attention; to her surprise, she found the gunman she had been worried about was lying on the ground with a growing pool of blood.

 

Unfortunately, her shouts diverted a couple of the remaining attackers. Figuring they were getting nowhere with the opponent in front of them, they decided to go for easier targets.

 

“Take cover,” Wanda said grimly, pulling her behind the pillar again. Darcy heard the cocking of a gun.

 

She braced herself for the firefight that was about to break out right in front of her. Seconds passed and she only heard heavy footsteps and indecipherable grunts. Dying of curiosity, she slowly peeked out of the cover in time to witness the first pursuers already on the ground and the second getting himself overpowered and put down by Bucky. The guy must have sprinted to catch and overpower them.

 

Of the twelve armed men that had come to kill them, Bucky had just killed eleven of them with his hands and a knife.

 

The man didn’t seem all that concerned about it. He slid his knife back wherever he hid it and moved towards them with the same intensity he had exuded when he was being shot at.

 

“We need to go,” Bucky said shortly.

 

“I’ll get the car,” Wanda replied.

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Darcy interrupted, heartbeat still beating frantically in her ears. “What the hell was that about? Who were those people? What did they want? And what _the fuck_ is the Bratva?”

 

Bucky’s jaw worked furiously. Wanda resolutely looked at her boss instead of her.

 

“Go get the car,” Bucky said.

 

Wanda was instantly off.

 

Darcy said indignantly, “Whoa, you don’t get to avoid my questions. Not when we were just shot at and almost killed.”

 

“And I will answer them,” Bucky snapped, “but not right now when we’re still exposed. Where’s Vision?”

 

“Here, sir,” Vision appeared next to Darcy. Darcy, whose nerves were already frayed enough as they were, yelped. He shot an apologetic look at her and said to Bucky, “There were reinforcements just outside.”

 

“Took care of them already?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Good.” An engine roared before the car raced towards them and squealed to a stop.

 

Bucky pushed her to the car. “Get in.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

The ride back to the house was one of the most frustrating things Darcy had ever experienced. She kept on trying to grill them for answers but they all kept ignoring her. Instead, they discussed stuff in rapid-fire Russian that Darcy had no hope of understanding, and no matter how many times she yelled at them to speak in fucking English, she got the cold shoulder. It was downright pissing her off.

 

Guards were standing at attention outside the front door when they finally pulled up to the driveway to the house. Bucky got out of the car and was immediately barking orders in more Russian and they scurried off one by one with his instructions.

 

Milena stood right behind the men, waiting to swoop in. “Oh, my медвежонок,” she said softly walking up to cup Bucky’s face in her hands. “С тобой все в порядке?”

 

“Она собирается узнать о нас.”

 

“Тогда она узнает о вас. Не бойся, Мишка. Объявите это тем, что будет.”

 

Bucky let out a breath. “Everyone inside.”

 

Darcy resentfully followed them into the living room. She stopped short at Bucky facing her.

 

“You have questions.” She looked at him warily because he was standing ridiculously straight with his hands clenched into fists at his sides and an eerie blankness in his eyes. “Ask them.”

 

Just because he was acting in a concerning way didn’t mean she forgot about how pissed off she was. “Oh, does this mean you’re acknowledging my presence now?”

 

He scowled. “Ask now or you’ll never get answers.”

 

Darcy had the urge to slap him. “What the fucking hell was that about?”

 

“The Triad disagreed with some of the actions we’ve taken and wanted to kill us for it.”

 

“Who’s the Triad?” she demanded.

 

“The Chinese mafia.”

 

“Why would _the Chinese mafia_ disagree with what your company does so much that they wanted you dead?”

 

“Because my company is a front for the Bratva.”

 

There was a sinking feeling in Darcy’s stomach. Her voice lowered, “What’s the Bratva?”

 

“The Russian mob.”

 

At that, a chill settled throughout her entire body.

 

“If you’re done, I have to deal with my response to the Triad’s attack. Wanda, go to…”

 

She moved to the door abruptly. Desperate, she moved as quickly as she could to flee, to get away.

 

She barely made it halfway when her wrist was snatched back, halting her momentum. She strained forward, pulling against the grip made of iron. When that didn’t work, she twisted around to hit at the arm holding her. “Let me go!”

 

Bucky snagged her other wrist with his free hand. She shrunk away from him. His eyes hardened. “No.”

 

She heaved with all her might backwards. He didn’t move an inch. Tears sprung from her eyes. “You bastard, you enjoyed screwing with me and my head, didn’t you? You thought, ‘Look at this idiot fleeing from one murderous mafioso right into the arms of the other.’”

 

He remained unmoved, his face still stone. “Are you finished?”

 

“Look, you can keep the money I gave you. You don’t even have to worry about the Albanians anymore, okay? Just let me leave.”

 

Bucky shook his head. “I can’t.”

 

“ _Why?_ ” she asked with a hint of despair.

 

“You know too much now.” Slowly, his hold on her loosened but out of the corner of her eye she saw two guards take place in front of the door. She was trapped. “We’ll still deal with the Albanians, but you can no longer leave here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks from hiding place* Everyone alive? I'm SO excited to hear what y'all think after such an exciting chapter... Chat with me in the comments or message me on my Tumblr!!!
> 
> Also, translations:  
> алый = scarlet  
> медвежонок = teddy bear  
> С тобой все в порядке? = Are you alright?  
> Она собирается узнать о нас. = She's going to find out about us.  
> Тогда она узнает о вас. Не бойся, Мишка. Объявите это тем, что будет. = Then she will know about you. Do not be afraid, Teddy Bear. Embrace it for what it will be.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy to hear how much y'all loved the last chapter!!!! It seriously blew me away to read your comments. Thanks so much for the love!!!!

Darcy was contemplating her chances of surviving a three-story drop.

 

She wouldn’t die from the fall, right? She would probably break something; if it was her arm, then she could still run, but if it was her leg, then she’d be back to square one with a broken leg. And even if she was able to stand after the fall, she couldn’t run to safety. She had no idea how to jumpstart a car. And who knows if she’d be able to outrun the guards that would inevitably come? She couldn’t call for help since every time she tried the phone they gave her wouldn’t connect. Plus, this whole scenario built under the assumption that she was right about surviving the fall. In reality, there was a very likely chance that Milena would have to scrape her off the pavement.

 

Basically, she was screwed.

 

 _No_. She refused to believe there wasn’t a way to get out of here, that she was stuck here.

 

A knock interrupted her thoughts. The door opened softly. “Miss Darcy? May I come in?”

 

Milena stood in the doorway with a tray that was wafting a mouth-watering smell. Feeling the ache of hunger in her belly, she briefly thought about refusing the meal. That idea quickly fizzled. It wouldn’t help her at all to starve herself; she needed her strength and her brain operating at one-hundred percent.

 

She nodded.

 

She stepped into the room and set the food down on the coffee table. She didn’t leave, though. Instead, the woman studied Darcy closely enough that she had to look away. Milena sighed. “Oh, Светляк, it’ll be—”

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

Milena’s train of thought derailed, she said, “Excuse me?”

 

“Don’t call me sivlack, or whatever. The nickname that you have for me that’s in Russian.” She laughed bitterly. “Wow, this has been a huge blow to my ego. Guess I’m not as smart as I thought. You guys were all conversing fluently in Russian and I just thought it was from being around you.”

 

“You are incredibly smart, Светляк,” her voice was firm. “You are also strongly see the good in people and my дети have been keeping this secret for a long time.”

 

“So, naive and as intelligent as the masses. Good to know,” she picked at the food without energy. A thought occurred to her that suddenly had her riled up. “Okay, but if they were smart about being Russian mobsters, then here’s one thing that’s confusing me: they’re holding me here. The logic is ridiculous; no, scratch that. There’s no logic whatsoever. If they’re really so concerned about their secret getting out, why bother keeping me here? I’m better off—” _Dead_. She swallowed.

 

Milena didn’t go further into Darcy’s train of thought. “They have other reasons for wishing to fight the Albanian mafia. One is they want to keep you safe. You may not like their methods and the position they are in, but those methods are the reason they have the power to keep you safe from all threats.”

 

She rubbed a lock of hair between her fingers. “What is their position?” she said with a sort of morbid curiosity. “I mean, there’s no way they could be low-level thugs with what they do.”

 

“Eat while I tell you,” she bargained.

 

Darcy raised her hands in a surrendering position before dropping them to uphold her part of the agreement. She was getting the better end of the deal, after all.

 

When Milena was sure Darcy was eating, she began, “There are four main groups to the Solntsevskaya Bratva with three tiers. At the top is the Elite Group. It’s leader is the Pakhan. They focus on the management, organization, and ideology of the Brotherhood. The Elite Group controls the two groups in the second tier: the Security Group and the Support Group. The Security Group ensures the organization runs smoothly and keeps peace between other organizations. The Support Group supervises activities, plans jobs and who carries them out. The Support Group watches over the last group in the third tier, the Working Unit. They carry out the plans the Support Group makes.”

 

“Based on name alone, I’d guess your ditti are part of the Security Group,” Darcy said with little humor.

 

Milena smirked at her. “I told you you’re smart, Светляк.”

 

Darcy’s mouth fell open. “I’m _right_?”

 

“Don’t be so shocked,” Milena chastised her.

 

Darcy sat back in her chair. “Huh. Okay, but if they’re part of the group that’s supposed to be all for criminal organization cooperation, then, dude, they really suck at it.”

 

The older woman laughed jovially. “Do me a favor and make sure I’m there when you tell плюшевый медведь that.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

“Darcy,” Wanda called out.

 

 _Shit_. Wanda had been trying to talk to her for the past three days. Thankfully, she’d managed to avoid her. Unfortunately, Wanda was stubborn and she hadn’t given up yet. Abandoning the TV, Darcy jumped off the couch and beelined for her room.

 

Looked as if the universe was done with her running away with her problems. In one of the weirdest intentions ever, a picture frame wobbled and fell right in Darcy’s path. Darcy adjusted her footing to avoid the photo but, in doing so, set her foot doing wrong and found herself falling to the ground.

 

“Ow, goddammit,” Darcy cursed, testing her right ankle. It twinged painfully.

 

“Are you alright?” Wanda said, concerned. Dracula’s cowlick, she had caught up her to her quickly.

 

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she grunted. With some support from the other woman, Darcy found herself back on her feet. She cautiously put some weight on her right side. Nothing major; it probably was fine.

 

“You sure? No stiffness or instability?”

 

“I’m really fine. I swear you moved that on purpose, though.”

 

Wanda was incredulous. “How could I? I’m not telekinetic.”

 

Darcy muttered, “Sure, keep on telling everyone that.”

 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said with a small pout.

 

And even though yes, Darcy had been avoiding her, she couldn’t help but feel a little tug of sympathy. Which should not have happened. It was Wanda that was in the wrong here. She should be the one feeling bad, not her. She gave her a closed off, “Yes.”

 

“Why?”

 

“ _Why?_ ” Darcy repeated. “You lied to me!”

 

She gave the college student a ‘is-that-all’ look. “Of course I lied. I was ordered to by my власть.”

 

“What?”

 

“My власть. Bucky,” she explained patiently. “That and we usually keep our affiliations and activities secret. You had the greatest risk out of any outsider we’ve encountered to figure out the truth, but it was Bucky’s call to let that happen.”

 

“So whatever Bucky says goes?”

 

“Yes. Otherwise, you have betrayed the Bratva, the family you swore to obey until your last breath. I’m sorry, Darcy. I wanted to tell you, but I had no choice.”

 

The earnest way Wanda spoke had some of the resentment boiling in her easing. Darcy cocked her head at the woman. “Your loyalty means that much to you?”

 

Wanda shrugged lightly, a solemness falling over her. “I owe my life to Bucky and the Bratva for what they did for me. I am happy to serve them in any way they see fit.”

 

“Can I ask?” Darcy said hesitatingly.

 

“If you wish to hear it,” Wanda allowed. “It is not a happy tale.”

 

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked to the floor. “I was born in a bad place at a bad time. We lived in a harsh place that was dying under suppression. My brother and I were born as the conflict started and my mother died in childbirth. Desperate to leave and start someplace new, my father groomed us to fight against our oppressors and win our freedom. We were beaten often, given no food, and constantly faced death. We both accepted that we would die; it was just a matter of whose hand it would be: the suppressors or our father.

 

“One day, when I was fourteen, it all came to a breaking point. Chaos erupted throughout the village and many were being slaughtered. The militants ordered us to help with the killings and we both refused. As punishment, they slaughtered our father right in front of us. Horrified, we tried to fight our way out, to escape, but my Pietro—” her voice broke, “he took a knife to the gut. I could not leave him there. I stayed, ready to die, when a group of men appeared from the trees and destroyed the militants. Bucky saved me from a shot to the head but my brother died in my arms.”

 

“I… I’m so sorry, Wanda.” Darcy didn’t know what to say. Wanda had been a preteen when her brother had died, close to a decade younger than Darcy with Ian. And even though many years had passed, Wanda still had that familiar haunted expression that Darcy saw in the mirror.

 

“Thank you, Светляк. I miss him dearly, but I accepted what happened to him. I would not have if Bucky had not taken me with him and cared for me. Later I met Vision, and, well, like they say: the rest is history.”

 

“I’m glad you managed to get out of that situation,” Darcy murmured, “even if it wasn’t the way you hoped.”

 

“I’m happy you agree with me,” she said with a warm smile. “Does this mean you’re done avoiding me?”

 

Darcy blinked. Well, shit. Who knew Wanda could be that sneaky? “I can’t just forgive that easily,” Darcy grumbled. “Wanda, I fear for my life every day because of the Albanian mafia. I’m terrified to contact my family and friends because of the chance that I could send expert killers to their doorsteps. And as much as the Bratva saved you, can you say there isn’t anyone out there that fears you and the Russian mob as much as I do the Albanian one?”

 

Wanda’s mouth twisted.

 

Darcy gestured as if to say, _do you see where I’m coming from?_ “Also, I can’t say that I’m not uncomfortable with the shady activities the Bratva does.”

 

“You’re valid to have your misgivings,” Wanda conceded. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I also want you to know that I love having you as a friend. You’re an amazing person, Darce, and while I hate the situation that caused you to come to us in the first place, I’m happy I got to meet you.”

 

Darcy ached to agree, because she had grown to love Wanda, Vision, Bucky, and Milena. But could she ever be friends with her captors?

 

Wanda tugged Darcy’s arm. “Continue to be angry at us. You have every right to. But, don’t lock yourself in your room and avoid us, please. Let’s watch that reality show you showed me. I want to know what happens to that idiotic chef.”

 

“You’re hooked, Wanda,” Darcy couldn’t help but laugh. She let herself be pulled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Светляк = firefly  
> плюшевый медведь = teddy bear  
> власть = power, authority


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I profess a million apologies at how late and how relatively short this chapter is. Couldn't be helped. I promise that the next chapter is longer. I hope some of you managed to see my update on Tumblr so that you had some reassurance that I was going to post.
> 
> On another note, we are so close to hit 5,000 views on _Shakedown_ and you have no idea how excited I am for the approaching milestone! Also, the comments for this work have simply been amazing; I'm so lucky to have such amazing readers as you!!! Anyways, enjoy!!!

While Darcy definitely still felt nervous about being in the lair of a mafia, she tried to make more of an effort to go out. She ventured out of her room to eat Milena’s meals and hang out with Wanda occasionally, but there was this level of tension that underlay everything. It was impossible to ignore, and she was genuinely worried that she would be in this constant state of distress for the entirety of her stay here. Which brought up the question: how long was she going to be here for? Would she live with these criminals for weeks? Months? She dreaded thinking any more longer term than that.

 

Another thing she was emphatically avoiding was Bucky. She made a point to only leave her room after he left for work, and dragged Wanda into her room for binge-watching before he got home. Weekends would’ve been especially tough, except for the fact that he seemed to be making an effort to avoid her too.

 

Darcy startled from her position on her bed when her phone rang in her pocket. Why was her phone ringing? It wasn’t like anyone had this number besides the people in this house, who could just yell to get her attention. The number was unlisted too, which was no help.

 

Figuring she would have been stopped already if it was dangerous or wasn’t allowed, she accepted the call. “Hello?” she tried.

 

“Darcy, honey?”

 

Darcy choked on thin air. There was no mistaking that voice. “ _Mom?_ ” Darcy’s voice rose an octave or two.

 

“Oh, Darcy!” her mom’s voice broke. “It’s so wonderful to hear your voice after so long. Theo, get in here! Darcy’s on the line.”

 

“Mom, how did you get this number?” It was really obvious that Darcy was freaking out right now but she tried to reign it in. She wracked her brain for an explanation to how her parents had access to a phone that was given to her for extreme life-or-death situations. She could play games or access the internet from it, but she was forbidden to log into any account attached to her name or email accounts, or to call or text anyone she knew.

 

“Well, your dad and I started to get worried when we hadn’t heard from you after more than a month of silence. I kept on calling the school, demanding they tell me where you were, but all they would say was that you had requested an emergency leave of absence. The police were just about to officially declare you missing and launch an investigation when we got the call from Mr. Barnes.”

 

“Hold on, Mr. Barnes called you? _James Barnes_ called _you?_   When?”

 

“Yes, he called us two weeks ago and he explained everything to us: how you had gotten an internship with Morozko that was extremely classified and wouldn’t allow you to tell anyone about it or what you were doing. He also told us how you were working on getting credit for working there and had only just managed to get security clearance for us so that we could know about it. Then he sent us a special phone to call you on your company phone. Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re alright. And what an opportunity, working for Morozko! Are you having fun? Are you learning a lot?”

 

Two weeks ago. _That meant before I had found out about the Bratva_. Darcy’s head was dizzy. “I—Yeah, I’m having a great time.”

 

“Darce?” a new voice broke in.

 

“Dad?” The sudden emotional onslaught had Darcy pressing a hand to her mouth as tears flooded her eyes.

 

“Hey, darlin’,” The warmth from her dad’s rumble had a sense of comfort and safety she hadn’t felt in so long flood her system. “How are you?”

 

Darcy composed herself. “I’m alright. I’m happy to hear your voices. How about you guys? Anything new happening in Vegas?”

 

Her mom seized upon the opportunity to gossip. “Well, Sammy just quit the volleyball team at Chaparral and Cheryl is super relieved about it. Her grades were tanking since the sport was such a time suck. Kyle just got braces and—”

 

Darcy let her mother’s words wash over her like a balm. She hummed and laughed and said, “Really?” when she was supposed her, but mostly she savored speaking to her parents when she had believed she never would again.

 

A frustrated sigh left her mom. “I’m sorry, Darce, but we have to cut this short; we’re meeting the Johnsons in fifteen minutes and we have to get ready. Will you call us later?”

 

“Of course,” she assured them. “Say hi to them for me. I love you.”

 

“Love you too,” they both chorused and then they were gone.

 

Darcy stood there for a little while longer, not really believing what just happened. She could talk to her parents now. They knew nothing of what really happened and they were still okay. There might even be a chance to get school credit for being gone.

 

_The police were just about to officially declare you missing and launch an investigation when Mr. Barnes called._

 

Bucky had called them. He had listened to her despair about her parents and school and had found an excuse good enough to solve both of them. He’d even given them an entire new phone so that they could call her. All before she had learned the truth about them.

 

She hadn’t even considered telling them the truth about where she was and why she was really there. About what had happened to her. But she couldn’t find it within herself to regret it.

 

And how she had a choice to make.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

She found him in the backyard with company.

 

He was shirtless again and in a pair of dark cargo pants. He was sweating freely and his prosthetic gleamed in the sunlight.

 

A group of men surrounded him, some she recognized as the guards for the house. They converged on him together.

 

He fought back with such a dominant grace she couldn’t help but stare. A dodge from a punch would be an attack on another. A hit would let him avoid a blow to the head. He was fast and brutal, pulling no punches on his own men. They all eventually were defeated; they hadn’t even touched him.

 

He caught her approach and tensed, expecting something different than what she had in mind. She stopped a few feet away from him and told him clearly, “Thank you.”

 

That caught him off guard. “For what?” he said roughly.

 

“For my parents. They just called me.” She hesitated. “I still don’t appreciate this...situation, but sometime—not right now, you’re busy, obviously—I’d like to hear about what you really do.”

 

“I can’t tell you everything,” he hedged guardedly.

 

“Obviously. Just, y’know, what you can.”

 

He nodded slowly. “Alright. Tomorrow.”

 

“Sure.” She spotted the curious looks in the Bratva men. “Right, enjoy getting all sweaty.” Then, she rushed back to the house. Soft laughter followed her.


	14. Chapter 14

Darcy had never had such a hard time coming up with get-to-know-you questions.

 

“So… you’re a spy?”

 

James huffed. “Who told you?’

 

“Milena,” she admitted. “She tried to explain the structure to me, but I don’t have details.”

 

“Milena, always a meddler,” he muttered with fond exasperation. “Let me guess: when you think of a Bratva spy, you can’t help but picture me in a black tux with a shot of vodka and introducing myself as, ‘Barnes. James Barnes’ in a Russian accent.”

 

“You got me.” She can’t help but warm at the image of James in a tight-fitted tux with that cocky swagger of a James Bond. She’d love to see it for herself. “You gotta admit that you have more than fifty percent of the name and the looks to match.”

 

He threw her a cocky smirk. “Think I could give the Bonds a run for their money?”

 

He could likely surpass them. Not that she was going to tell him that. “Maybe,” she said flippantly. He continued to grin at her. She changed the subject with a flutter in her chest. “So if I’m wrong in my James Barnes-Bond image, what is it truly like?”

 

“How about a tit for tat?” he suggested. “I’ll answer a question if you answer one of mine.”

 

“Uh, sure.” What question he’d ask, she had no idea. “Now answer the question.”

 

James slouched back. “The Pakhan—the leader of the Bratva—picks his best and most lethal warriors as his spies. He also has to trust the person enough to give them the position. Why did you decide to go to Culver?”

 

“Vegas isn’t the kind of place you want to live for the rest of your life. Take it from someone who grew up there. Plus, Culver has a great IR program. How did the Russian mafia get in the US?” Darcy wondered.

 

“Mostly from the work of Support. They’re the ones that expanded overseas. A bunch of the work now happens here. What are your plans for after college?”

 

What was with his curiosity about her life? “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out. There are a few options for an IR major like me. I could go into politics, be a diplomat, work for some international business, or go non-profit. And what work does the Bratva dabble in?”

 

James gave her a hard critical look. “Why do you want to know?”

 

Mostly to gauge the level of illegality and immorality he was in. “No particular reason.”

 

He weighed the truth of her answer. “We’ve got our hands in extortion, money laundering, prostitution, street gangs, thievery.”

 

All stuff that wasn’t explicitly murder and mayhem. Darcy had been half afraid he’d say they were part of human trafficking or assassination. And dear God, was she seriously trying to justify being okay with the Russian mafia?

 

“What’s your favorite thing in the world?”

 

“I can’t answer that! That’s too hard,” she exclaimed.

 

“Try,” he challenged.

 

She blew a raspberry. “Right now, I’d say it’s a tie between _Hamilton_ and chocolate cake. Good chocolate cake. How long have you been part of the Bratva?”

 

“Since I was fourteen.”

 

Her jaw dropped. “Whoa, _fourteen_?”

 

He remained unaffected by her shock. “Had to. What’s your most embarrassing memory?”

 

“Ugh, are you serious? That’s not fair.”

 

His slow, suggestive smile made her toes curl. “Never said I played fair, кукла.”

 

Damn him and his Russian. She strongly suspected that he was getting more outta this than she was.

 

“C’mon,” he cajoled, “you agreed.”

 

“Fine. I might or might not have shown my assets to my high school principal, the mayor of Vegas, and his wife.”

 

Immediately he was laughing. “ _What?_ ”   


“I didn’t mean to do it!” she defended. “it’s just that my dress had a zipper right in front and I didn’t notice until in the car after the event that the zipper had gone completely down. I still don’t know whether or not the scarf I was wearing covered it enough that they didn’t notice.”

 

He grinned wolfishly. “You’re a riot.”

 

She sniffed haughtily. “And damn proud of it.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

She woke to the sensation of her comforter sweating her into dehydration. Grimacing, she peeled the covers off her.

 

Suddenly desperately craving a glass of freezing cold water, she reluctantly hauled herself up. She yawned, scratched her scalp, and padded downstairs to the kitchen.

 

James was sitting at the island with his laptop’s glow casting over him. He straightened at her appearance. His voice seemed rougher in the night. “What are you doing up?”

 

“Wanted some water.” She snagged a glass and turned on the tap. “Why are you awake? Please don’t tell me you’re working at this time of night.”

 

“Sorry to break your heart, кукла, but it’s the downside to coordinating with people in a different timezone.”

 

She winced. “Ouch. Need company?”

 

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be here for a little while longer. Go back to sleep.”

 

Then he rubbed his eye and looked adorably, sleepily rumpled and Darcy couldn’t help but go and plop down right next to him.

 

He was a gentleman enough to kindly protest. “You really don’t have to—”

 

“Shut up, I’m sitting here and you can’t do anything to convince me otherwise.” She took a gulp of water. “You do this often?”

 

“Not really. Once or twice a month.”

 

“Still once or twice more than you’d like, though, huh?” She nudged his shoulder.

 

He took the contact with a rueful shrug.

 

“I have to ask, why do this here? Why not the living room of the library, where there are sinfully comfortable couches to sink your ass into?”

 

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “No reason, really… Guess I’m just used to being here.”

 

“No better place to be but the kitchen,” she readily agreed. “I don’t know if it’s the power of readily available food or if it’s just the kitchen itself, but whenever something’s being cooked up in the kitchen, you can smell it everywhere. Which I didn’t think was possible considering how massive and maze-like this place is.”

 

He hummed.

 

“What made you pick this place anyway? The location? Get a good deal? Because I know it wasn’t the house itself.”

 

He leaned backward abruptly. His work on the computer was forgotten. “What do you mean by that?”

 

She pursed her lips. “Uh, you hate this house with an absolute passion?”

 

His mouth opened and closed, at a loss. “How the ад you figure that out?”

 

“Was it a secret?” she asked, confused. “Because if it was, your poker face is not cutting it, dude. You were definitely better at hiding that you’re a mobster than your utter disdain of this place.”

 

He had this look on his face that she couldn’t quite decipher. “Why did you decide to major in political science and not computer science?”

 

Okay… Talk about a change in subject. “Because I’m not good at coding. At least, not good enough to major and make a career out of it.”

 

“бред сивой кобылы.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I said bullshit. From what Vision and Wanda tell me, you’ve figured out our systems and used them to your advantage when some of our Morozko employees couldn’t. You’re more than smart enough to major in computer science and get whatever career you want. Don’t listen to whatever жир головы tell you different.”

 

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. Fuck.

 

He was out of his seat with his laptop under his arm before she knew it. “Goodnight, кукла. Sweet dreams.”

 

“‘Night, James,” she replied automatically.

 

His hand fell to the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Bucky,” he corrected. “James is always for acquaintances and you’re not an acquaintance anymore.”

 

“Bucky,” she said faintly.

 

A hint of satisfaction passed Bucky’s face. He left his hand on her for one, two, three— _dammit, dude, are you trying to kill me?_ —before disappearing from the kitchen.

 

Darcy was so screwed.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

 

"Why are you all ganging up on me?" Darcy demanded amidst laughter.

 

"We're not ganging up on you!" Wanda defended themselves with a grin. "It's just that you literally declared yourself a masochist."

 

"I just said that I liked sparkling water because of the pain!"

 

"And that doesn't make you masochist?" Bucky teased her, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

 

"I hate you all," Darcy said with a pout.

 

A shrill ringtone joined their laughter. Bucky, still chuckling, waved them to be quiet. “All right, панки, enough right now.” He raised his phone to his ear. “Barnes.”

 

Darcy couldn’t hear who was on the other end, but the tingling of the hairs on her skin as all of the lightheartedness was sucked out of the room told her a lot. The Bucky she had been admiring was gone now; in his place was the hardened Winter Soldier.   


“Это приятно слышать от вас, пaкaн.”

 

Vision had a blank, almost robotic look on his face. Wanda’s jaw was clenched, her skin pale.

 

“Ванда и Виктор здоровы. Компания процветает.”

 

There was another pause. “Нет, мы не имели контакта с албанцами в течение нескольких месяцев. Я сделал, как вы приказали.”

 

Milena sucked in a breath.

 

Bucky’s expression went darker. He forced his voice to be measured and calm. “Конечно, сэр. Мы никогда не предадим тебя. Я немедленно позвоню Наталье. Спасибо за ваш звонок, пaкaн.”

 

The call ended and Bucky slammed his phone onto the table. His face was murderous.

 

Without warning, he was out the door. There was a loud bang, then the slamming of a door. The rest of them sat in awkward, tense silence.

 

“Go to him,” Wanda murmured to Vision. He gave a curt nod, pressing a kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead before following the Bratva spy.

 

“What…just happened?” Darcy asked slowly.

 

Wanda’s expression was grim. “The пaкaн.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ад = hell  
> бред сивой кобылы = bullshit  
> жир головы = fathead  
> панки = punks  
> Это приятно слышать от вас, пaкaн. = It's nice to hear from you, Pakhan  
> Ванда и Виктор здоровы. Компания процветает. = Wanda and Victor are well. The company is thriving.  
> Нет, мы не имели контакта с албанцами в течение нескольких месяцев. Я сделал, как вы приказали. = No, we have not had contact with Albanians for several months. I did as you ordered.  
> Конечно, сэр. Мы никогда не предадим тебя. Я немедленно позвоню Наталье. Спасибо за ваш звонок, пaкaн. = Of course, sir. We would never betray you. I will call Natalia immediately. Thank you for your call, Pakhan  
> пaкaн = Pakhan


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE BROKE 5,000 Y'ALL!!!!!! I'm so happy and emotional. Each of you is seriously the best.
> 
> And on that note, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm sure you won't want to kill me after this, no siree ;D

To say things were tense after that phone call was an understatement.

 

She hadn’t talked to Bucky at all and she’d only managed a few words between Vision and Wanda. She’d tried to ask Wanda what was wrong but Bucky’s left hand only said, “Bucky’s under a lot of pressure to make something happen soon. It means all hands on deck.”

 

That was all Darcy got so she was left to fume and dawdle. The only distraction she’d gotten was Milena sneaking her a recipe and helping her go through her first batch of Ptichye Moloko. They were delightfully sinful and Darcy had eaten half the batch. She definitely regretted that decision later.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

Darcy woke to an anticipation in the air.

 

Rain tapped at the window earnestly behind the curtain, occasionally increasing its insistence with the help of the wind.

 

There was no other sign that something was happening. Yet, Darcy found herself pulling her hair into a messy bun and wandering out of her room.

 

The hallways were bereft of life on the second and third floor. Her eyes caught the light shining through the open door of the basement.

 

The tech room’s door was closed but another was open. Murmurs drifted towards her.

 

Men were busy moving about the room she’d never seen, armed themselves to the teeth. They were starting to look a SWAT team.

 

In the middle of it all was Bucky, Wanda, and Vision. All three had tac gear on and Bucky’s had left his left arm free. He was leaning forward on the table, his eyes intent on the plans in front of him.

 

“Are you certain you wish to proceed with this, солдат?” Vision cautioned him.

 

“Vision, stop asking me that,” he snapped. “This is the best lead we’ve had. We have to take it now while it’s still fresh.”

 

“We have no plans of the building. We will be going in blind. There is a difference between taking advantage of an opportunity and running headlong into danger.”

 

With a snarl, Bucky was up with his hand at his best friend’s throat. “I gave my orders. Are you disobeying your шпион?”

 

Vision remained still. “Of course not, солдат.”

 

They both stared hard at each other. Slowly, Bucky’s hand retreated. As he turned to walk away, Vision spoke. “Before you do this, think of what Becca would want. Would she rather you die while trying to enact justice or be smart?”

 

“ _I am thinking about her!_ ”

 

Bucky slammed his fist into the table. It buckled under the force, splinters flying everywhere. HIs shoulders rose and fell and his hands were still clenched into fists.

 

He spoke again, his voice controlled. “I think about her everyday. I swore to myself I’d kill Pierce and burn his entire organization to the ground. For Becca. For Darcy.”

 

Darcy’s breath hitched.

 

A man near then cleared his throat. “Я ненавижу прерывать, босс, но ваша девушка прячется за дверью.”

 

At that, all three of them snapped their heads around to see her peeking through the door. Vision raised an eyebrow, Wanda shook her head at her in amusement, and Bucky… Bucky straightened slightly and tilted so that his gleaming arm was out of sight.

 

Darcy coughed awkwardly. Well, this was awkward. “Uh, hi?”

 

“What are you doing here, Darcy?” Bucky grumbled.

 

Darcy opened the door wider and took a tentative step forward. “I heard voices and wanted to see what was going on. Are non-lethal persona allowed in the Bratva dungeon?”

 

A tight smile reluctantly tugged at Bucky’s face. “Bratva dungeon?”

 

“Oh, please, Buck. Do you see the brick walls, low lighting, and disturbing amount of weapons in here? You’ve practically begged me to do it.”

 

One of the guards stifled a laugh. Bucky’s smile turned more genuine. “I’d beg you for a lot more than a name, кукла.”

 

Darcy fought the flush creeping down her cheeks. “What’s with all the hullaballo?”

 

A silence followed.

 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “C’mon, you guys, I know that you do not-so-legal activities now. You can fill me in on the Bratva stuff.”

 

“We found out where Pierce lives,” Vision finally answered.

 

“And Pierce is…?”

 

“Alexander Pierce is the leader of the Albanian mafia.”

 

“Right.” Darcy felt a chill in the room. “And you guys are gonna bust down the door and give him a good ass-whooping.”

 

“Босс, мы готовы,” a man in a uniform called out.

 

“Стенд готов к работе с работающими двигателями, мы будем там в минуту.” Bucky responded. He grabbed a duffel bag in the table debris and swung it onto his shoulder. The other two followed suit.

 

Nervous now, Darcy blurted, “You sure you’ll be okay?”

 

He turned to her. “We’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “This will all be over soon.”

 

“Get some rest, Darcy. We’ll be back before sunrise.” Wanda added gently.

 

With nothing else to say, Darcy hugged Wanda and Vision.

 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I don’t get a hug?”

 

Ugh, this man. “You get one if you come back in one piece,” Darcy shot back.

 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Bucky promised with a grin. There was a moment of hesitation before Bucky rested his hand on her shoulder. She glanced first at the hand, then up at him. His eyes were unreadable, but Darcy still felt her lungs constrict for a second, a warm, fuzzy feeling invading her insides. Then, he was gone. They filed out of second door (was that seriously a secret garage?). And they were off.

 

Darcy glanced one last time at the Bratva dungeon—now completely abandoned—before trudging up the stairs.

 

So they were hunting the man who had killed Ian and was threatening her life. Pierce, they called him. With the chance that she could be free of the noose encircled loosely around her neck, she was more than angsty for the lead to be true. If it was successful, then she would get to leave.

 

There was also a good chance that she’d never see Bucky, Wanda, Vision again.

 

She wasn’t going to kid herself. She went to college several states over and they worked more than one full time job. They led busy, complicated lives. Besides, would she even want to stay in contact with them when their lives were so deeply entrenched in the Bratva? The moral ambiguity was the entire reason she was in this mess in the first place.

 

_I think about her everyday. I swore to myself I’d kill Pierce and burn his entire organization to the ground. For Becca. For Darcy._

 

That was the second time she had heard that name. Becca. She was desperately curious, because she never saw any hints of a girl who might bear that name. Who was she? A friend? A girlfriend? Something more?

 

Her mind was a mess of questions and uncertainties. And underneath it all was the simple wish that they’d be alright.

 

Then she tripped.

 

She was cursing even before she was landing. _Ow, her knees!_ Fuck, what had stopped her?

 

She turned her ire to whatever had come into her path. Horror overcame her.

 

Sprawled facedown on the floor lay Milena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Sorry, I forgot the Russian translations. Here you go!  
> шпион = spy  
> Я ненавижу прерывать, босс, но ваша девушка прячется за дверью. = I hate interrupting, boss, but your girl is hiding behind the door.  
> кукла = doll  
> Босс, мы готовы. = Boss, we are ready.  
> Получить двигатели; мы будем там через минуту. = Get the engines running; we'll be there in a minute.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all were so amazing last chapter!!! The overflow of responses to the cliffhanger was incredible. Thank you so much!!! I hope you all can forgive me after this...

A trickle of blood trailed into Milena’s eyebrow and her right hand stretched out next to her feet. Her hand must have been what she’d tripped on.

 

 _Oh, God, was she—_ She scrambled over Milena’s prone form, cradling her head to check her heartbeat at her throat.

 

Darcy felt steady, strong pulses underneath her fingertips. She was alive. Darcy slumped in relief.

 

Warily, she searched for signs of what had happened. There was nothing out that would have tripped her. All were in their right spots.

 

One thing was for sure: she had to get help. “I’ll be right back,” she told Milena out loud. “I’m just going to get a guard. You’ll be alright.”

 

She took off, stopping by each room to look for any signs of help. “Hello?” she called out. “Anyone? I need help! Milena’s hurt.”

 

She came to the front entrance. Light shone high above the door onto the circular table in the center and the vase of flowers decorating it.

 

Next to it lay the guard, his cheek blooming black and blue in the sunlight. His arm lay at an angle that Darcy knew was wrong.

 

That was no coincidence. No accident.

 

An intruder was in the house. And everyone was gone to hunt Pierce.

 

She was alone in this house.

 

“Hello, Miss Lewis.”

 

Darcy jerily spun to face the voice. She recognized him immediately. “You!”

 

“Me,” McSweeney said with a feral grin. He wore dark jeans with a leather jacket. He gripped a gun loosely with his hand.

 

“I must admit, I was surprised to find out that you had survived Skua House. After all, you’re weak, untrained, and the men I called for had been fighting since they were dropped out of middle school. You were supposed to be an easy kill.”

 

“And what about your team?” Darcy couldn’t help but snap, their ghosts rising in his presence. “Kat, Vladimir, and Anatoli? Do you even remember the people you killed in cold blood?”

 

“They were liabilities,” the scumbag said dismissively. “Too many uncontrollable variables. I had to make sure they didn’t interfere.”

 

She couldn’t comprehend the monster that stood before her. This man could kill the people he interacted with—had gone into battle with—daily and justify it enough not to give one thought about them afterwards. He was nothing like Bucky, a man who was far deeper and more powerful than McSweeney but had a sweetness and gentleness that was completely void in the other man.

 

Of course, that meant McSweeney wouldn’t hesitate to kill her too.

 

She had to distract him enough to call for help. But how?

 

_When in doubt, stall._

 

“How did you even get in here?” Her skin was crawling at his proximity. Oh so minutely, she started inching away from him.

 

He sneered. “Please, as if I didn’t build plans to get in here during my time as one of the security directors of Morozko Private Security. It was one of my first orders.”

 

“As a thug and rat to the Albanian mafia,” Darcy supplied.

 

“I was hand picked and trained for months to handle the position. Nothing short of perfect success was expected of me and I did it.”

 

 _Except for killing me_ , Darcy couldn’t help but think. She was smart enough not to say that out loud.

 

“Enough talk,” McSweeney said with a leering grin. “I’ve been waiting to do this since I heard you escaped.”

 

He moved to approach her and Darcy immediately darted to the vase and threw it straight at McSweeney. She didn’t even take the time to see if it had slowed him down; she sprinted for the lair downstairs as a crash then the pinging of shards of glass falling to the floor with a heavier thud sounded.

 

 _Just let me make it to the basement_ , she thought frantically. _I can lock myself in there and if he somehow does manage to get in, there’ll be a hell of a lot of weapons stored right next to me to help me out. Just let me—_

 

She cried out as her ankle was snatched back and she tumbled to the floor. Frenziedly, she twisted around to meet him but a fist came into her sight so quickly she couldn’t avoid it. The punch left Darcy disoriented. She vaguely made out the words “stupid bitch” before agony blossomed in the center of her chest and stomach again and again. Noises of pain escaped her and tears leaked from her eyes.

 

But even as breathing became more difficult, Darcy refused to give up without a fight. In a feat of desperation, she grabbed the foot about to connect with her torso and pulled it to the side. As soon as he fell, Darcy was on him, pulling back her fists to punch his balls as hard as she could. Then, when he curled up in pain, she grasped his head and shoved it to the hardwood floor. She pulled back to do it again but his hand came up to wrench her hands away and, in a move she couldn’t escape, twisted her arm in a way that caused a violent _snap_. Fire swarmed up her arm.

 

The pain was so great that black spots were appearing in Darcy’s vision. She didn't have the wits or the strength to really resist the wrenching of her foot. Distantly, Darcy could hear herself screaming.

 

The augmenting pain stopped so suddenly that for a moment she still thought it was happening but simply couldn’t feel it anymore.

 

A roar of absolute rage reached Darcy’s ears. A cacophony followed: crashes and thuds and cracks.

 

Darcy couldn’t find it in herself to care. The pain had resolved itself into a steady ache and was fading away. An all-consuming fog was nudging her subconscious and she welcomed it with open arms.

 

“Darcy!”

 

The calling of her name made a pull tug slightly against the fog. She precariously hung in the balance.

 

“Darcy, stay with me!”

 

The fog became more insistent; her entire body was numb and she could barely feel herself drift away. There was no point in fighting it; why fight to feel more pain?

 

“Damnit, stay with me, Darcy!”

 

She became consumed.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all have been so patient, dealing with these cliffhangers. This chapter, you will be rewarded!!!
> 
> Happy December, everyone!!!

George Clooney on a cracker, what was laying on top of her?

 

Darcy was in the sweet comfort of sleep when a heaviness over her broke her out of it. The closer she came to consciousness, the more irritated she got. Why was it so hard to breathe deeply?

 

Forced to break the glue sealing her eyes shut, she squinted in the blinding white light. Did someone deliberately point a spotlight straight at her? She shut her eyes.

 

“Mmpha,” she garbled.

 

“кукла?” a familiar voice said. It brought a sense of peace and safety she didn’t realize she needed. She hummed.

 

“кукла, Мне нужно, чтобы ты проснулась. пожалуйста,” it said in a quiet, pleading voice, “oткрой свои глаза.”

 

She opened her eyes.

 

Next to her in a stool sat Bucky. He wore the same tac gear she’d seen him in last time. Stubble lined his jaw but the storm in his eyes gave his roguishness a brooding edge.

 

Even with the terseness lining his face and shoulders, he smiled softly at her. “Nice to see those pretty eyes open,” he said softly. “Been missing them.”

 

“Not sure I can say the same for your face, charmer,” she croaked. She glanced around at her surroundings. The furniture was practically nonexistent except for the stool Bucky was sitting on. It was painfully utilitarian and Darcy was already depressed at the sight. She was in one of those hospital-grade beds with machines hooked up to her and beeping. A blanket was loosely draped to her waist.

 

Speaking of things draped over her, she looked for the weight that was pressing down upon her that had woken her up. Her disbelief rose when she didn’t find anything except for a cast on her left arm, a brace on her left ankle, and her chest wrapped in bandages.

 

“Has gravity gotten stronger?” she wondered out loud.

 

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “No, кукла. You’re feeling soreness in your chest from breathing. What do you remember from before you woke up?”

 

She blinked slowly while sifting through her memories. “You guys left to get Pierce… I was walking when… Milena!” she gasped, a panicked terror seizing her. “McSweeney was in the house and—”

 

“It’s okay,” he soothed her. He grasped her hand and she clung to the anchor.

 

“Is she okay?” she asked desperately.

 

“She’s fine. Got a bump on the head but that’s it. The guards were a little more beaten up but they’ll pull through.” His expression turned blacker. “Your injuries were the worst.”

 

She looked down again. “What happened to me?”

 

“Five bruised ribs, one broken arm, and a sprained ankle,” he said clinically. “You also have a bruise on your left cheek.”

 

She grimaced. “Great.” She reached up with her right hand to test the bruises. “And McSweeney?” she asked anxiously.

 

“In our custody,” he responded. “I’ll be interrogating him later but first, I owe you an explanation for why I failed you that night.”

 

Her brows furrowed. “You didn’t fail me.”

 

“Yes, I did,” he stated loudly. He trembled slightly and Darcy really wasn’t liking this self-loathing look on him. “Not only did I break my promise to you but I let my ghosts and past make me think emotionally instead of logically and you paid the price for it. So I’m going to tell you why I fucked up because you deserve that and more.”

 

Darcy really didn’t agree with any of that but it looked like he thought he would be eaten by hellhounds if he didn’t. She settled in to listen to James.

 

“I was born shit poor on the streets of Brooklyn,” he started bluntly. “My father died when I was young and my mom worked hard to keep us afloat. Sometimes we would be okay, other times we had to starve for a day or two or go without new clothes or not have electricity for a month. As soon as I was old enough I was working whatever job I could to help out—not just my ‘ma and my sister Becca, but my best friend Steve.”

 

_Becca was his sister._

 

A certain kind of fond exasperation, the same one that overtook him when he talked about Milena, Vision, or Wanda, seemed to fill Bucky as he thought about his best friend. “He’s probably the best person I’ve ever met. Always thought about others, even if they were complete strangers. He’d get in scrapes almost every day defending someone from a bully three times bigger than him. Which would be dangerous enough, but Steve had always been sickly ever since he’d been born and it was a worry he’d die from something as simple as the common cold. The scrapes made that worry even worse. Soon, Steve’s health was falling fast and the leftover cash we had was going to keeping him alive.

 

“Soon, we’d run out of cash, It was the worst timing; winter was coming and in addition to needing extra gas for the heat, the cold always made Steve vulnerable to sickness. We desperately needed the cash and my ‘ma couldn’t handle the stress and exertion of extra hours. My jobs didn’t pay for shit and neither did Becca’s. I needed something that got me extra cash quick.”

 

Darcy could see where this was going.

 

“That’s what had me running to the Bratva, begging for work. I managed to get a trial job delivering packages.”

 

Darcy couldn’t help but ask, “How old were you?”

 

“Fourteen.”

 

 _Fourteen!_  The image of a frightened preteen Bucky pleading for work to save the people he loved was heartbreaking.

 

Present Bucky didn’t seem to think so; his voice was mild as he spoke. “I stayed there for two years, doing basically the same thing. Occasionally, I’d be given a higher job: keeping a package safe, spending shifts guarding something, but nothing massively important. I stayed where I was, a Бегун and I was perfectly happy with it. It kept my family away from the fear of not having enough money to get by.” He fell silent, lost in thought.

 

“What changed?” she asked softly.

 

“I saved the Pakhan’s family.”

 

She gaped at him. He smirked more for the agreed incredible event than her reaction. “I know; I had the same expression on my face when I’d found out what happened. I didn’t even know who they were when I tackled them to the ground, saving them from a shooting by car.

 

“My arm got injured beyond repair during the accident.” Raising his metal arm, he stared at it distantly. “They had to amputate it, and I thought me and my family’s lives were over. There was no way the Bratva would keep me with me now as a cripple. We’d slowly run out of cash and be right back where we started.

 

“It wasn’t until the Pakhan himself shook my hand and thanked me for saving his wife and daughter that I found out who I’d saved. And in return for the sacrifice I’d made saving their lives, he promised me that my loss wouldn’t affect me. I gained the head of the Bratva’s favor and my life changed. I was immediately invited to come home with them in Russia. Only the invitation wasn’t something you said no to, especially when it seemed I wouldn’t lose my place in the Bratva after all. I packed what I had, said goodbye to my ‘ma and Steve, then was shipped out to the other side of the world. There, I was given a metal arm and groomed to be something beyond a simple Бегун. Three years later, he asked me to become the Шпион for the Security Group. The leader. One of his inner circle.

 

“I might have done terrible things while preparing for the role, but it couldn’t have prepared me for what I had to do as Шпион. It tore my soul apart, but it didn’t matter. Not only was my family surviving, they were thriving. Steve was able to get treatments, and ‘ma and Becca didn’t have to work as much. It was enough.

 

“It was my job to ensure good relations with other organizations and to enforce our reputation. The main problem I had to deal with was the Albanian mafia, the Pakhan’s number one enemy in the US. There was the occasional backstabbing and firefight, but neither organization managed to severely cripple the other… at least, until the Pakhan did something so unforgivable in the eyes of Pierce that all that supported him were put on his kill list. That included me and my entire family.”

 

Darcy’s entire body went cold. “Please tell me this isn’t didn’t go the way I think it went.”

 

“One night, a group was sent to ambush my house with me and my family inside.”

 

“Bucky…” she whispered, her heart aching for him. He was hunched in on himself, his mind trapped inside his memories.

 

He went on without hearing her. “Thank God my ‘ma was out, but my sister Becca was home from school and I was visiting her… They took us to a basement, and Pierce walked in to make sure that I was Bratva.” He pulled down his shirt to reveal a black tattoo of a star over his heart. “And as soon as he saw this, he took a gun from his waistband and shot my big sister in the head.”

 

Ignoring the pain, she grasped his hand tightly with tears in her eyes, unsure of what to say.

 

“He didn’t kill me, though. Instead, he had the idea that it would be hilarious for one in his enemy’s inner circle to work for him. So he tortured and brainwashed me to destroy the Bratva under his command. It took months before I was rescued, and months after that for the brainwashing to be completely wiped.”

 

“Bucky… I can’t imagine. I’m so sorry.”

 

He shook his head furiously. “When my head was clear, I made a promise to Becca that I would kill Pierce myself and burn the entire organization to the ground. And I’ve been doing everything in my power to fulfill the promise without catching the attention of the Pakhan.”

 

“Please tell me you do not blame yourself for what happened to me.”

 

“I was thinking of my promise to Becca when I made the decision to leave here,” Bucky growled, “and you almost got killed because of it.”

 

Darcy cried, “Of course you were thinking of your sister! I would think something was wrong with you if you didn’t. I don’t blame you for what happened, Bucky, and you shouldn’t either. I blame McSweeney, who’s a psychopathic, sadistic bastard who likes to hurt people for his own gain. That’s on him, not you.”

 

There was a pause as Bucky stared at her. “Вы слишком хороши, чтобы быть настоящими. Откуда ты?”

 

Darcy glowered at him. “I don’t know what’s with you and your cryptic, sexy growling in Russian but I’m too tired and in too much pain to deal with it.”

 

In response, he pressed a button on the machine hooked to her. A rush of lethargy came over her. “Rest. Do what you need to heal. I’ll be here.”

 

“You asshole, did you just dose me to make me fall asleep?” she drowsily snapped. She was disappointed to note there was no heat in her voice. Her eyelids drooped.

 

She felt a soft touch against her forehead. Did he just kiss her head?

 

She wouldn’t have time to debate. She slipped back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Вы слишком хороши, чтобы быть настоящими. Откуда ты? = You are too good to be real. Where did you come from?  
> кукла, Мне нужно, чтобы ты проснулась. пожалуйста oткрой свои глаза. = Doll, I need you to wake up. Please, open your eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

“One more repetition,” Vision encouraged Darcy.

 

“How about you walk into the ocean and never come back?” Darcy shot back with gritted teeth.

 

Vision, as usual, remained unfazed. “Come now, Darcy, one more and then you are done for today.”

 

 _Ugh, why her?_ She whimpered before ignoring her screaming muscles and protesting even louder ankle as she pushed her legs to straighten against the weight.

 

“Excellent,” Vision said in approval. “You’ve recovered well, Darcy, in the few weeks you will have completed your rehabilitation.”

 

Darcy flopped off the machine and onto the floor. She celebrated the moment of non-exertion. “Sure, Merciless Master. Whatever you say, Merciless Master.”

 

Vision tsked. “Are you still determined to use that inaccurate and ridiculous moniker?”

 

“Yes and I won’t stop until you give me a sock,” she groaned at Vision’s failure to recognize the Harry Potter reference. “Why are you a certified physical therapist again on top of the MBA?”

 

“I felt it was necessary to be familiar with physical therapy, given the nature of the job of those around me and myself partake in. Additionally, it kept me occupied while I was gaining my other degree.”

 

Darcy sat up quickly. “ _Other degree_ _?_   How many degrees do you have?”

 

“Five.”

 

“ _Five_ _?_   I’ve been working my ass off at twenty-two and you have five degrees at twenty-five?” The unfairness of it all made her head want to explode. “What are the degrees in?”

 

“Business, Public Health, Mechanical Engineering, Economics, and World Literature.”

 

Darcy threw her hands up in the air and collapsed back to the floor. “Now that is ridiculous. You’ve now officially declared yourself to be my permanent tutor.”

 

“Permanent tutor?” Vision repeated in amusement. “Why would I ever announce such a statement?”

 

“Because I’ve endured being your house elf in physical therapy for three weeks and you owe me,” Darcy replied. “ _You owe me._ With you at my side, I can conquer my International Law final.”

 

A laugh sounded from the door. Darcy turned her head to see Wanda striding towards them. “That sounds like a fair deal,” Wanda agreed with a grin.

 

Vision looked at the two woman in bemusement. “It does not sound like a fair deal whatsoever,” Vision protested. “How does that sound like a fair agreement?”

 

“Because I said so,” Darcy said primly.

 

“What she said,” Wanda added. The two collapsed into giggles. Vision looked at them, his bafflement still clear.

 

Still grinning, Wanda wrapped her arms around his neck. “We’re joking, Vis. The whole agreement wasn’t valid. Except for the tutoring, which I believe Darcy still expects you to do.”

 

Vision’s face cleared. “Ah, of course. Ha ha.”

 

Darcy rolled her eyes in baffled amusement.

 

“What brings you here, love?” Vision asked Wands. His hands came to encircle her waist.

 

“I actually came for Darcy. Our computer technician is finally here and has just been cleared by Bucky. I wanted to offer you the chance to speak with her about Morozko Cybersecurity. She is more than willing.”

 

“That sounds super cool,” Darcy enthusiastically said. She slowly got up, wincing slightly at the aches from her healing injuries. “Plus, anything to escape Master Vision.”

 

“We have already completed our scheduled therapy session for today, Darcy,” Vision said patiently.

 

“For _today_ ,” Darcy whispered in a horrified voice to Wanda. She rolled her eyes. “Let me shower first and I’ll meet you there.”

 

“No time. Nora needs to have a diagnostic of the systems by tonight so you only have time to chat with her for about five minutes today before she starts.”

 

“What?” Darcy squawked. “I can’t shower? Dude, I stink so much I could pass for a dumpster. Nora will run away from me before you even introduce us.”

 

“Don’t worry; Nora’s smelled worse before, especially during her three-days-nonstop coding excursions with fellow programmers. She won’t mind. Move along.”

 

“Are you my new Master now?” Darcy said despairingly. “Traitor! I thought you had my back.”

 

“My loyalties are first to my boyfriend. Friends get second priority.”

 

“Vision, save me!” Darcy called out dramatically. “My freedom has been relinquished to your devious girlfriend.”

 

Wanda chuckled. “Have you ever thought of a career as an actress?”

 

“Briefly, when I was nine. I hosted my own show once to test it out and was discouraged when no one applauded at the end. Then again, my audience consisted of stuffed animals and imaginary friends, so…” As she trailed off, they passed the hallway where McSweeney had attacked her. She clenched her jaw hard. Her ribs suddenly began aching more than ever.

 

Luckily, they moved on quickly, and soon the girls reached the basement. As Wanda opened the door, Darcy forced herself to remain keep her lighthearted air, “Now that I think about it, why didn't I just kidnap my parents and force them to give me positive reinforcement? It could've boosted my self confidence issues as a preteen far more than any fluffy animals.”

 

A woman with blonde hair and purple streaks was sitting at one of the consoles she said, “Don’t worry about it. I failed at blackmailing my parents into a bunch of stuff. I only partially regret it.”

 

Darcy elbowed Wanda. “Nice job setting a great first impression. Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

 

“It wasn’t as bad as the one I got from my mom. On the first day of high school, my mom yelled in parking lot, ‘Nora! You forgot your extra pair of panties!’”

 

Darcy guffawed. “Wow, that’s some deeply traumatizing shit.”

 

The other woman shrugged. “Eh, I got over it. Eventually. It was a great way to weed out the crazy people as potential friends.”

 

“Oh, I think we’re going to become very good friends. Darcy Lewis.” She stuck out her hand to be shaken.

 

“Nora Clappier. I heard that you did a diagnostic of Morozko’s systems.”

 

“It took me a while and it’s probably missing a helluva lot, but I did my best to make one at Vision’s request.”

 

“Sweet. Lay it on me.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

It was during lunch the next day and Darcy couldn’t take it any longer.

 

“Can I ask about what happened after you guys left for Pierce?” Darcy asked quietly.

 

Wanda made a face.

 

“Please, Wanda?” Darcy said pleadingly. “It’s already been more than a week, and no matter how much I pry, Bucky won’t say anything about what happened. Neither will Vision after Bucky said something to him. Milena doesn’t know anything. That leaves you.”

 

Wanda rubbed at a spot on the stair railing. “It was kind of a disaster, to be honest.“

 

Darcy’s nose scrunched up. “I mean, that’s kind of an understatement? Considering that the guy working under the Albanian mafia broke into the house to kill me.”

 

“Not just that.” Wanda shook her head. “The entire night from start to finish was shit. We shouldn’t have gone out in the first place. The information wasn’t solid and hadn’t been confirmed. When we did get there, it turned out to be a trap. A bunch of our people got injured—nobody dead, thankfully—but we went home with nothing.

 

“It was pure luck that we got home so early. We were all packing up, but then Bucky had heard something upstairs and wanted to check it out.

 

“We could hear his yell—more of a roar, really—from downstairs. When Vision and I finally got there, we saw you on the ground bleeding, and Bucky had McSweeney pinned to the wall by the throat. He was fully prepared to kill him, but Pierce must’ve wanted McSweeney to do more damage along the way, so he planted an explosive in the back patio. It distracted Bucky enough for the bastard to get free, and you needed too much assistance for us to go after him.”

 

Mouth dry, Darcy tried to swallow. She couldn’t help but feel a jolt of fear every time she thought about how McSweeney was out there. Her nightmares had soon shifted from faceless mafia goons attacking her to McSweeney’s feral grin staring over her before he proceeded to kick her in the ribs again. Of course, in her dreams, Bucky and the others never came to save her, and McSweeney made no intentions of stopping. But making the house a fortress had taken up almost all of Bucky’s focus. If Bucky were a ghost, it would be his fixation.

 

“I’m happy he told you.” Wanda said abruptly, regaining Darcy’s attention. “About his past. He never talks about it and, as you’ve seen before, he can react badly when people bring it up. So Vision—the blunt, caring idiot that he is—is usually the only one who does. I think someone who can be more objective about it would help him a lot.”

 

Darcy shrugged lightly. “What happened to him was fucking awful,” she said directly. “Thinking about it makes me sick. But what makes me most angry was how he blames himself for what happened last week. If it’s what it takes, I’ll be more than happy to knock some sense into him. That’s what my girlfriend Jane would do.”

 

Wanda smiled. “I don’t hear you talk about Jane all that often.”

 

“Jane’s awesome,” Darcy told Wanda. “She was my neighbor as a freshman, when we were all assigned our rooms, and we instantly clicked. Which was weird, since we were total opposites and she was majoring in astrophysics, but she was my second favorite person, after Ian. We had some great laughs together.”

 

She patted Darcy’s shoulder. “I hope to meet her sometime.” She jerked her head towards the stairs. “I’ve got to head downstairs. You good?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” She waved her off. Time for some quality time in the library.

 

“Oh, and Bucky wanted me to tell you you’re going out with him tonight. There’s an outfit waiting for you on your bed,” Wanda said absently over her shoulder.

 

“Wait, what?”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long it's been taking me to reply to comments; this past week had been especially busy. If I haven't replied to you yet, fear not! I will be sending you responses as soon as this is posted.
> 
> And with that, I hope you enjoy the highly-anticipated date!!!

Darcy was having a bit of a crisis.

 

She was nervously putting the finishing touches on her hair, moving a strand one way then putting it back.

 

She was totally stalling and she knew it. A good part of it was because of the gorgeous black dress with a sweetheart neckline that skated along her chest and side to bare a good majority of her back. The dress went all the way down to just above her knees. The look was topped with sinfully stylish gold pumps and a necklace adorning a slim, golden bar to match. In short, it was an outfit every fashion-driven teenager had a wet dream about and it must have cost a fortune. Which made for interesting guesses as to where she and Bucky were going tonight.

 

Which led to the main reason she was stalling: was this a date?

 

Because it kind of felt like it was. Albeit he hadn’t asked her, let alone told her it was a date, but… she really wanted it to be.

 

And that was the problem within a problem. She wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted it to be a date. Sure, they flirted and had the occasional eyesex and intense, meaningful exchanges, but that was as far as it went.

 

So Darcy had no idea what to expect except for looking extremely amazing while doing it.

 

There was a knock at the door. “Светляк? медвежонок is ready.”

 

Darcy blew out a breath. “Coming,” she called back.

 

She opened the door to find Milena waiting for her. The instant the housemaid saw her she gave a blinding smile. “Oh, Светляк. You’re shining like the sun.”

 

“You’re too kind,” Darcy said warmly. “Hopefully I’ll blind everyone to the point they don’t notice any gaffes.” She wrung her hands.

 

Milena reached out to grasp her hands. “You are a shining star that deserves to be loved. Just have fun tonight.”

 

Darcy squeezed back gratefully. “I will. Thanks, Milena. You’ve given the best advice over the past few months.”

 

Milena kissed her gently on the cheek in gratitude.

 

Bucky waited for her at the bottom of the landing like in any stereotypical rom-com. He glanced up at her approach. A slow smile crept over his mouth and he gave her a once-over that made the butterflies in her stomach increase tenfold.

 

“Well, there’s one more regret I can add to the list,” the Bratva spy greeted her.

 

“And what's that?”

 

“Because I’ve never seen you in that dress before, and that’s a tragedy I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

 

That smooth tongue was going to get them in trouble. For something like public indecency. Not that she minded… “You’re just as bad. It’s almost a crime for you not to wear that every day for the rest of your life.” And anyone who swung that way would agree: that tux clung to his frame in a way that showed off his masculine strength and confidence and power in his physique. He looked damned good and he knew it.

 

He smirked at her. “I’ll be sure to remember that. Ready?” he offered his arm.

 

She took it.

 

Throughout the entire car ride, she tried and failed to wheedle out where they were going.

 

“You know you want to,” Darcy said suggestively.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I?”

 

“Of course you do. Deep down, there’s this voice that’s saying, ‘I want to tell Darcy anything she wants.’”

 

His voice lowered. “Anything?”

 

Ugh, now he was being unfair. “Anything,” she repeated strongly.

 

He hummed and traced little circles on the back of her hand. She shivered. “Too bad I already promised Wanda and Milena I’d describe the look on your face when you found out.”

 

She huffed at his stubbornness, twisting her hand to lace his fingers with hers. “Why not just tell me now and come up with something to tell them later?”

 

“Wanda and Milena would tell that we’re lying. You know that.”

 

“Fair,” she conceded with a reluctant sigh. “I would just like to put on record that I think this is totally unnecessary.”

 

His amusement at her was clear. “Noted.”

 

When they pulled to a stop and got out, Darcy immediately began walking down the street, searching for any signs as to where their destination might be.

 

Bucky snagged her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

 

Confused, she pointed in front of her. “Uh, wherever it is you’re planning on taking us. Are we going the other way?”

 

“We’re already here.”

 

Darcy’s hand drifted to point at the theater entrance. “But… this is the Richard Rogers theater. That’s showing _Hamilton_.”

 

He was openly enjoying her baffled state, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It is.” Taking advantage of her bewilderment, he steered her to the entrance.

 

An usher said brightly, “Good evening, sir, ma’am.”

 

Bucky gave her a nod and passed her the tickets from the inner pocket of his jacket. After a short inspection, the woman returned them and welcomed them inside. “Enjoy the show!”

 

Slowly realizing that she wasn’t lucid dreaming, she stared at him in amazed disbelief. “How…?”

 

He shrugged as if saying, _This isn’t that big a deal._ “We had a client a year ago that worked for the show. Said if we ever wanted them he’d get us tickets. Thought it would be a good time to call in the favor after hearing how much you love it.”

 

She was so touched that she was speechless. None of the previous guys she’d been with had been particularly enthused with her obsession with a Broadway musical about one of the US Founding Fathers. For him to be so thoughtful to get her tickets to the actual thing, make it a surprise, and be willing to watch it with her… Well, let’s just say she never had to fight so hard not to jump someone. Still, she couldn’t suppress the massive bear hug. “Thank you,” she said thickly.

 

After a moment of hesitation, he returned her embrace tightly. “You deserve it,” he murmured in her ear, “after all the shit you’ve had to deal with. Besides, I had to see the face you’d make when you realized what we were doing.”

 

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Are you satisfied?”

 

His lighthearted express turned intentful. “Yes,” he said huskily. “I’m satisfied.”

 

“Attention, ladies and gentlemen,” a voice on the intercom broke in, interrupting the moment. “The show will be starting in fifteen minutes. Please take your seats.”

 

He took her hand. “C’mon,” he said, “don’t want to miss it.”

 

He was definitely right. She’d have to work hard to forget that he’d almost kissed her.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

She definitely wasn’t thinking of the almost-kiss when they wandered into the house a few hours later. Her eyes were as wide as a child on Christmas morning and the high she was on had her bouncing up and down. “I… I don’t even know where to begin to start explaining how amazing that was.”

 

“It was a great play,” he acknowledged. He had discarded his jacket and draped it over one shoulder.

 

“Not just that; they touched on so many different societal and political issues that we’re struggling through right now. Gun rights, social classes, legacies… Also, a lot of stuff about life philosophy. All that, plus the amazingly witty songs and the characters and the costumes and…” she sighed dreamily.

 

Bucky chuckled lowly. “Прямо сейчас ты такой красивый.”

 

“What?” She was too focused on _Hamilton_ to be truly aware of whatever he was sneakily saying.

 

“I’m glad you liked it so much.” He motioned upstairs. “You turning in?”

 

She would, but she was honestly too hyped up to sleep anytime soon. “Nah. Probably will just listen to music or something for a little bit.” She cocked her head. “Join me?”

 

“Thought you’d never ask, кукла.” They walked together in companionable silence. Once they got to the living room, Darcy fiddled with the stereo system and Bucky sprawled out across the couch. She found a slow, sleepy station to get her tired and cuddled into the end of the couch next to Bucky.

 

“This song was playing at my high school prom. It was the only song I actually liked that night,” she told him.

 

“You dance?”

 

She scoffed. “Yeah, no. Me dancing usually consists of awkward bouncing up and down waving my arms around. Slow dancing’s worse; that’s usually just me swaying in place.”

 

Bucky shook his head in disapproval and stood up. “Your date didn’t even know how and teach you? That’s a crying shame, кукла.”

 

He stepped forward and took her right hand in his left and pulled her close. Her free hand found his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

 

He placed a hand at her waist. “Givin’ you the dance you should’ve gotten.”

 

“Are you serious?” She stumbled as her new dancing partner pulled her into a spin. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Bucky. Remember, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

 

“That’s what I’m here for.” His grip was solid and reassuring. “First, have your right foot step forward.”

 

“ _It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me_.”

 

“Put your other foot forward… Now have your right foot step to the side.”

 

“ _And I’m feelin’ good._ ”

 

“Have your left foot follow.”

 

“ _Dragonfly out in the sun, you know what I mean, don’t you know._ ”

 

“Step back, starting with your right.”

 

“ _Butterflies all havin’ fun, you know what I mean_.”

 

“Now repeat the entire thing. Right foot forward...”

 

“ _Sleep in peace when day is done: that’s what I mean…_ ”

 

After a few rounds, Darcy started getting the hang of it. And throughout the entire way, Bucky was there, guiding her, never irritated when she accidentally hit or tread on his foot or made the wrong move. Soon, Darcy stopped thinking and could feel the slow, sultry sounds of the man crooning to them with the piano sinking into her body, making her awareness of her partner that was moving right along with her skyrocket.

 

“ _And this old world is a new world and a bold world for me…_ ”

 

A headiness was slowly filling her up, electricity crackling between the pair. Bucky’s attention was all on her, and look she’d seen in the theater lobby was back in full force.

 

“I take it back.”

 

Thrown out of sync at the abrupt statement, Darcy said breathlessly, “What?”

 

He drew her impossibly closer. A fire raged in his eyes and she couldn’t help but think she’d welcome the burns with open arms if it meant being consumed in the flames with him. “I’m not satisfied,” he growled. “Not yet.”

 

And then his hands cupped the back of her neck and his lips slanted across hers and Darcy was set ablaze.

 

“ _And I’m feelin’ good._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well?!?!?!?!?!?! What did you think??????
> 
> Светляк = firefly  
> медвежонок = teddy bear  
> Прямо сейчас ты такой красивый = You are so beautiful right now.  
> кукла = doll
> 
> Also, the song playing at the end was, naturally, "Feelin' Good." I was sitting one day eating lunch when a cover of the song played and I immediately thought of Bucky and Darcy. Sadly, I couldn't find the artist to the cover again...


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone!

Darcy woke to butterfly kisses trailing down her spine. Moaning languidly, she stretched across the sheets, feeling the delicious ache in her muscles.

 

A low chuckle sounded from behind her. “Morning, кукла. Feelin’ a little sore?”

 

Without looking back, she swatted behind her. “And whose fault is it that I stayed up later than necessary for a workout?”

 

“Not to sound like a cliché, but didn’t hear you complaining about it last night. Or was it this morning?” Lips trailed further down her back then a nudge to her left leg had her rolling onto her back. She tilted her head up to find a bare and tantalizingly mussed Bucky between her legs. Little lovebites were scattered across his neck and shoulders and Darcy had a feeling that if he turned around, she’d see scratches adorning the entire length of his back from his shoulder blades to the base of his spine. Not that Bucky seemed particularly bothered by any of it; from what she could remember, he’d deeply enjoyed her doing it, if his growls and the ferocity of his pace said anything.

 

The man in question smirked at the way her eyes lingered at the play of muscles in his arms and torso.

 

She scowled in response. “Well, what else was I supposed to do when you were doing things that are definitely illegal in some countries? Not breathe? Because—”

 

He cut of her off with a kiss, his tongue outlining the seam of her mouth before darting in for a taste. He pulled back abruptly to her disappointment, but it quickly faded when he lowered himself so that his head was in line with her lips. Her core tightened.

 

He sent her a wicked grin. “Was I complaining?”

 

He lowered his face down to her.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

“Three orgasms.” Darcy shook her head. “Three orgasms after the shitload the night before and you expect me to move from this bed?”

 

Bucky smiled softly, his body relaxed as he followed her down the steps. “Milena promised she’d make pancakes this morning. Trust me, you don’t want to miss her pancakes.”

 

“ _That_ I’m not surprised about. I’m more surprised that she promised to make pancakes today since she knew we’d be gone ‘till late last night.”

 

At Bucky’s suspiciously shifty non-response, Darcy demanded, “What?”

 

Bucky sheepishly wrung the back of his neck. “Well, she’d heard about my plans for last night and told me that if I followed through with it, she’d make us both pancakes.”

 

Darcy gaped. “Why?”

 

“Seems as if she was hoping something would happen if we went.” He shrugged.

 

The nerve of that woman! Her tenacity was truly awe-inspiring. It was close to Jane’s levels. But… “Does that mean the only reason last night happened was because she bribed you with pancakes?”

 

Bucky shook his head emphatically. “No! Do you really think I would do that?”

 

“Well, no, but I’m trying to figure out what made you, y’know, go for it.”

 

They were stopped in the middle of the stairs now. Bucky, frowning at her words, stroked softly at the skin of her forearms. She held back a shiver.

 

“Я идиот.”

 

“Yes, Bucky, I would love some Russian lessons! Thank you for asking,” she deadpanned.

 

“Lesson one, then. Сила тяжести.”

 

“Сила тяжести?” she tried.

 

“Yes. It means gravity. That is what you are to me. You’ve pulled me back to solid ground, Darcy. Reminded me what it’s like to live outside of the Bratva’s kill-or-be-killed view of the world. You brought me back to myself and I want to spend the rest of my time making you as happy as you were last night in that theater. Because I’ve never felt for someone more in my life than you.”

 

She grasped his elbows tightly. “I’ve been in a couple relationships,” she started. “Some were good, others weren’t. And I know we didn’t meet in the best of circumstances, but I feel like the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more secure I am in myself. That is something I can’t say for all the other guys that were in my life. All I know is, I like who I am when I’m with you.” She searched his face.

 

His thumb brushed the side of her check. “So we agree about that, at least.”

 

“Yeah, guess so.”

 

A dark shadow passed across his face. “Being by my side can be dangerous,” he warned. “I have more enemies than just Pierce and even my position in the Bratva can get me and those I care about killed from those that I consider to be my brothers.”

 

She shook her head. “That won’t happen.”

 

His expression was filled with doubt. “How can you be so sure?”

 

“Because you’ll protect me,” she said simply. “You’re literally the best of the best, and I know that I won’t be any safer than at your side, exactly where I want to be.”

 

Conflicting emotions filled his face, but the slight smile showed how much he liked her total trust in him and his abilities. “Тогда вместе.”

 

“A new lesson?” Darcy asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Yes. Вместе. Together.”

 

She smiled as she reached up to kiss him. “Вместе.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

Eventually, they got out of bed and descended the stairs. Bucky had this secretive smile on his face and Darcy suspected she wasn’t much better. It was confirmed when Wanda stumbled across them on their way to the kitchen and her eyebrow raised with one look at them.

 

“I’m guessing this means we’ll be taking regular trips to Willowdale in our futures,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Looks like it,” Bucky agreed. Darcy hadn’t even thought about how their relationship would work while she was in school; her new boyfriend’s thoughtfulness and decision to already come and visit her had her fondly squeezing his hand.

 

Wanda sighed and only said, “Well, I can’t say I’ll be complaining about it. I’m happy for you two.”

 

“Thanks, Wanda,” Darcy said sincerely. She threw an arm over her shoulders. “Though this doesn’t mean you’re getting out of _Mob Psycho_.”

 

Wanda turned to Bucky. “I take it back. Run away from her now.”

 

“Too late. She’s decided she likes me.”

 

“Ugh! Why can’t men have enough mental power to withstand lack of sex from their girlfriends?”

 

Darcy was laughing at the face Wanda was making when Bucky’s hold on her tightened. He hauled her behind him before she could even guess what was wrong.

 

“Aw, c’mon, Nat! At least let me split the ice cream.”

 

“Какого хуя вы здесь делаете?” Bucky snarled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> кукла = doll  
> Я идиот. = I'm an idiot.  
> Сила тяжести = Gravity  
> Тогда вместе. = Together then.  
> Вместе = TogetherКакого хуя вы здесь делаете? = What the fuck are you doing here?


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!!!! Wishing you a safe, healthy, and happy 2018...

Peeking out from behind his shoulders, Darcy spotted a couple sitting at the island. One was a strikingly beautiful woman with red hair curling to her shoulders. Her intelligent green eyes assessed the three of them and she scooped some ice cream. The man sitting next to her looked like he’d hastily scraped by from a fight; his scraggly blonde hair was barely covering a butterfly bandage on his hairline and the purple shirt he was wearing looked scuffed and torn in areas. He pouted at the redhead next to him.

 

She ignored him, keeping a shrewd glance on Bucky. “Hello to you too, Soldier.”

 

“Natasha, Clint,” Wanda greeted them with wary confusion. She seemed happy to see them, but cautious at the obviously unexpected appearance.

 

The guy Clint grinned at her. “Hey, Scar. You still terrifyingly reading minds and shit?”

 

“Only with those that deserve it,” Wanda shot back. “A boomerang arrow, Clint, really?”

 

“Hey!” he frowned. “Why are you hating on the boomerang arrows? They’re awesome! They’ll save your life one day.”

 

“Natalia, why are you here?” Bucky pressed impatiently.

 

“You haven’t introduced us to your friend.”

 

Unable to see Bucky’s face, Darcy could only feel the tension in his back as he said tensely, “This is Darcy. Darcy, this is Natasha and Clint.”

 

Darcy gave an awkward wave. “Hi. Nice to meet you?”

 

Clint gave a jaunty wave back as he tried to sneak his spoon into Natasha’s bowl. Without even glancing in his direction, she slapped his hand away. “Ow.”

 

“Natalia…” Bucky said warningly.

 

She sighed. “Relax, James. I’m only here to warn you.”

 

“Malik sent you.” There was no question in the sentence.

 

She shrugged. “He’s concerned about the rumors he’s hearing about what is happening at Morozko and New York. Since we were close by, he wanted us to see for ourselves if the rumors were true.”

 

“Are they?” Wanda crossed her arms.

 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You tell me.”

 

There was a pause before Bucky jerked his head to the side. In one smooth motion, Natasha had risen from her seat and passed her ice cream bowl onto Clint, who snatched it up eagerly.

 

A soft touch on her hand had Darcy looking up at Bucky.

 

“Stay with Wanda?” he murmured to her.

 

She nodded. She’d get answers later.

 

He followed Natasha out of the kitchen and Darcy joined Wanda and Clint at the island.

 

“So what has Bratva’s version of Mike Rowe and company been doing?” Wanda asked.

 

“Oh, ha ha,” he said with a quirk. “How the hell do you know about Mike Rowe?”

 

“Someone has made it their personal mission to catch me up on pop culture, whether I want to or not.” Even without giving any indication, it was pretty clear who Wanda was talking about.

 

“Impressive,” Clint turned to Darcy. “And what caused you to join with these idiots?”

 

“Had a bit of a safety issue.” It was as good an answer she could think of without giving away too much.

 

“Not a bad choice.” He scraped the bottom of the bowl for the last bits of ice cream. “I still remember when these losers had no idea what they were gonna do in the real world to make a living. Didn’t even realize they could make a living out of what they do best until an old lady literally walked up to them and said, ‘Why do you not have a fucking security company? If every single youngster creates a so called ‘startup’ every day, there might as well be one that can make a goddamn difference.’”

 

Wanda snorted. “Yeah, Vision had no idea what to say to that.”

 

“I swear, your boyfriend is an android constructed by a secret lab and released into the world without any lessons on human interaction.”

 

“He’s not that bad,” Wanda protested.

 

“Hate to agree with wannabe Mike Rowe, but the dude’s right,” Darcy couldn’t help but break in. “Your boy cocked his head at me like a lost puppy when I told him he needed more swagger when he walked. Also, I totally suspect that he put the most uncomfortable furniture ever in his office because he really didn’t know better.”

 

“I resent that wannabe comment.”

 

Wanda relented a little. “He does get lost on some things, but he’s still smart in his own way.”

 

“That I won’t argue about.”

 

The door opened again, admitting Natasha and Bucky. Darcy looked carefully at him to see if there were signs of trouble, but the tension in his frame had dissipated and he made no move to shove them out of there.

 

“All good?” Clint asked.

 

His companion nudged him. “C’mon, we have a flight to catch. We’re finished here.”

 

“Alright, alright, hold on a second,” he grumbled, snagging his jacket. “Ladies, say hi to Vision for us. And tell Milena I’m heartbroken I didn’t get any of her delicious food.”

 

“Don’t lose an eye with your boomerang arrow, or whatever,” Darcy said.

 

Clint scoffed. “Please. I don’t miss.”

 

“I’ll drive you to the airport,” Bucky said.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Natasha objected.

 

Bucky’s “it’s funny you think you can refuse this offer” face had her sighing but following him to the garage. As soon as Wanda and Darcy heard the garage door closing, Darcy was on Wanda. “I have so many questions right now.”

 

“Clint and Natasha, the heads of the Support Group. I guess they got a request from the Pakhan to see if the rumors that Bucky was going behind his back and hunting for Pierce were true. Luckily, we have a good enough relationship with them that they won’t totally tattle on us unless they determine that we’re putting the entire organization in jeopardy or putting their position with the Pakhan at risk.”

 

“Did Bucky tell her about my part in this?”

 

Bucky’s left hand shook her head. “Bucky doesn’t trust them enough to tell them everything. While we do help each other out once in awhile, we still make sure our position and trust with the Pakhan is upheld over our fellow Groups. There’s a line.”

 

“And is Clint her sidekick?”

 

Wanda laughed. “Hardly. Natasha may have been the one that talked to Bucky, but I promise you that she immediately shared what she learned with Clint. They share everything with each other.”

 

“So they’re…partners?”

 

“In every sense of the term,” Wanda clarified.

 

“Huh,” Darcy tried to picture it. “Don’t they seem a little too…polar for each other?”

 

“The same could be said of you and Bucky.” Good point. “You’re right that their personalities vary, but I’ve never seen such a stable and powerful partnership. Doing Support Group work can be hard when you have to juggle multiple jobs at once, control all the things in place, and get good results every time. They make it work and that’s why the Pakhan is fairly lenient with them.”

 

“Yeah, I can’t even imagine the struggle.” Trying to wrangle a bunch of gang members into successfully conducting multiple missions at a time seemed like a never-ending headache. Darcy shook off that train of thought. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Especially when… “Bucky said Milena made pancakes?”

 

Wanda shot her an amused look. “You should be ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of Milena by hooking up with Bucky.”

 

“Hey, she offered. This is all on her.”

 

Wanda rolled her eyes. “She said she’d make them after she came back from grocery shopping.”

 

“Sweetness.” She couldn’t wait for some buttery goodness. “Oh, and about tonight…”

 

“No.”

 

“I didn’t even say anything.”

 

“You want to do another TV marathon. No.”

 

“One episode?”

 

“Darcy, the last time you asked that question, we ended up watching five episodes.”

 

“I swear, only one episode!”

 

“You are the worst enabler I’ve ever met.”

 

Darcy pouted, but couldn’t think of a solid protest against that. “C’mon, you know you want to…”

 

Wanda laughed helplessly. “I hate you. You know that, right?”

 

A crash sounded, loud and sudden and not at all an accident. Darcy jumped in her seat in surprise, but Wanda was already up and in a defensive stance. Without hesitating, she snatched a knife from the wooden block, the light glinting from the blade. “Get behind me,” she ordered Darcy.

 

Just as Darcy managed to step behind her, the door blew open. Darcy braced herself for a fight, when Natasha stormed in, bruised and wind-swept.

 

At the sight of her, Wanda relaxed slightly, but didn’t lower her guard. “What happened?”

 

“We were ambushed en route to the airport.”

 

That hit them like a punch to the gut. “ _What?_ ” they both said in unison.

 

“By who?” Wanda added demandingly.

 

“Very likely by Pierce.” Natasha’s lips were pressed into a fine line. That, plus the singed edges of her clothes, made everything seem much more real and terrifying. Had they not been talking about pancakes two minutes earlier? “And James—”

 

“Bucky?” Her chest constricted. “What happened to him?”

 

“He was kidnapped,” she said grimly. “Pierce took him.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope most, if not all, of you saw my warning on Tumblr yesterday that this update would come late. Sorry about that! You've been so patient; have a long chapter <3

To say that Darcy was overwhelmed would be an understatement.

 

“ _What?_ ” Darcy strode closer. “What do you mean, he got kidnapped? He’s the most badass fighter I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Sonar weaponry,” Natasha’s voice was grim. “New, cutting-edge tech. The one thing the car wasn’t protected against. By the time we could recover, they’d sedated Bucky and were extracting him.”

 

“We tried to get him back, but they had enough gunfire to keep us pinned and they made sure to hightail it outta there.” Clint added as he entered the room, fingering the bow in his hands.

 

“Well, do we know where he is? We can rescue him, right?” Darcy’s voice rose as fear began overtaking her system. Bucky’s words of what he’d been forced to endure while at the hands of Pierce ran through her head. If Bucky had to do it again…

 

“It’s going to be all hands on deck if we’re gonna get him back,” Clint was saying to Wanda. “We’ll start making calls and get people out on the street.”

 

“Do it,” Wanda agreed. “But not a word to Malik. If he finds out about this, it will be the final straw and he’ll cut his losses and abandon Bucky.”

 

“Understood,” Natasha told her. “Let’s bring him home.”

 

A nod of agreement and then they were off, contacting people in fluent Russian. Wanda pulled out her cell too, going for speed-dial. “Vision needs to know about this,” she said to Darcy. “Hey, Pierce took Bucky. Natasha and Clint are already pulling their team together… Okay. And Vis, I hate to say this, but we might need more than that. We might need Steve.”

 

There was a pause. “Okay, I’ll call him. See you soon.” Then, Wanda was dialing again.

 

Darcy, already at a loss as to what she could do, needed to at least be kept in the loop. “Who are you calling?”

 

“Someone from Bucky’s past that might be able to help.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

When he walked through the front door, Darcy couldn’t help but stare. She thought Bucky had been impressive in both his height and build, but the blond crossing the foyer in only four steps was even taller than Bucky and just as muscular. He should have been intimidating to Darcy, but there was something about him that made her relax, a wave of reassurance washing over her.

 

“I came as soon as I could,” the man said anxiously. “Are there any leads yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Vision replied. “However, only an hour has passed and our teams have just begun.”

 

“I’m gathering my own squad right now to help out. They’ll meet me at the scene and we can help search for him too.”

 

Bucky’s right-hand man raised an eyebrow. “Is it so wise to utilize your resources at the police station for Bratva activities?”

 

“I don’t care. It’s Bucky,” the man said fiercely.

 

That was when Vision noticed her lurking. “Darcy,” he sighed, “you shouldn’t be here.”

 

“And I should be what? Moping around my room with no clue what’s going on? Pass.” Her arms were folded tight against her as she stepped from the shadows. There was a tension in her neck and spine that she couldn't shake. She didn't think it would fade until she laid her eyes on Bucky again.

 

The newcomer was frowning at her in confusion, likely picking her out as someone who definitely didn’t fit in around her with her sweats and loose posture. “I’m sorry, ma’m, I don’t think we’ve ever been introduced. You are—”

 

“Undersheriff Rogers, this is Miss Darcy Lewis, a woman who has fallen under our protection. Darcy, this is Undersheriff Steve Rogers.”

 

Steve Rogers? As in Bucky’s childhood BFF, the one he joined the Bratva for?

 

Steve’s face turned dark. “Someone is after you, Miss Lewis?”

 

“Darcy, please. And no one Morozko can’t keep me from.”

 

“Of course.” A beep came from Steve’s waist. “That’s my team. Will I be seeing you out there?”

 

“I will be organizing the search from the mansion and keeping watch.”

 

“Right. I’ll notify you as soon as we get anything. Nice to meet you, Darcy.”

 

“You too.” Darcy watched him stride with purpose out the door, then turned to Vision. Through the general calm, she could tell he was tired and thinking way too hard about what was going on.

 

He was resigned when he spoke to her. “I am not going to be able to convince you to distance yourself from this situation, am I?”

 

Darcy put on a grin, but it was only with minimal effort. “Not a chance.”

 

He heaved a breath. “Very well. You may accompany me monitoring the different teams, but only if you do not interfere.”

 

She gave him a sloppy salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

Three weeks passed.

 

Three weeks passed, and nothing surfaced about Bucky’s whereabouts. Nora scoured virtually the entire internet to find a trace of him, Wanda and Vision struggled to juggle handling Morozko with finding Bucky and handling the Bratva. It was Steve, Natasha, and Clint who really went out on the streets to try to find Bucky. Steve utilized every police resource he had to scour. Natasha and Clint would be gone for days at a time, before reappearing, sometimes empty-handed, sometimes not.

 

Darcy dreaded the days when they returned with someone. She never went down into the basement, but she could still hear the screams of whoever they had captive.

 

It was day twenty-two when Nat flung open the kitchen door and told everyone they had a lead. An old abandoned building that strangely had heavy security and was using a lot of power.

 

Darcy got the sickening feeling that she didn’t want to know what Natasha had done to get that intel.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

Darcy had her entire being focused on the video feed in the basement of the house.

 

On the video, it was clear that Steve was moving swiftly throughout the warehouse. He efficiently took care of resistance while occasionally doubling back to save a comrade who looked close to being overwhelmed.

 

“Rogers! Your six,” a voice called out.

 

The screen jerked around disorientingly. It came to a rest with a view of combat boots that kicked at Steve.

 

Darcy gnawed at her lip worryingly as the monitor tried to keep track of Steve’s fight. The window of opportunity that Bucky would still be there was closing. They could be transporting him to another place any minute and he would be out of reach for another three weeks. The extraction team needed to hurry.

 

Suddenly, Steve’s opponent was on the ground with a grunt.

 

“You’re taking too long,” Wanda’s voice could be heard out of shot.

 

“I had him,” Steve protested. Darcy had to be imagining the petulant tone.

 

“Move it.”

 

Their footsteps intermingled with the fading sounds of gunfire. “He’s not on this floor or upstairs. We have to go down,” Wanda announced.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Just find a way down!”

 

Steve burst open a door and found a staircase. “Here.”

 

The men that guarded the door downstairs only took seconds to take down. “Left or right?”

 

“Take your best guess.”

 

Steve followed Wanda to the left.

 

They crossed through the hallway. Wanda pressed a button. As soon as the blast sounded, they started firing, sparks flying as the bullets ricocheted against the walls.

 

“I count four separate gunfire,” Vision reports.

 

“How the hell can you tell?” Darcy asked incredulously. It all sounded like noise blurred together.

 

At a quick glance to Wanda, Steve twisted to fire two shots to match Wanda’s. Steve entered, checking for signs of life. But there were only four bodies on the floor except—

 

“Wanda.”

 

Darcy was out of her seat. The world tunneled before her and she couldn’t help but reach out to touch the cool glass.

 

Slumped against a steel chair and restrains was Bucky. He was unconscious and in rags and his head hung limply from his shoulders.

 

She pressed harder against the screen, trying to still her trembling. _Please don’t be dead please don’t be dead pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_.

 

Wanda, who had immediately gone to check his pulse, broke into a smile. “He’s alive.”

 

Darcy made a noise between a moan and a cry. Vision made no visual reaction except for the easing of his grip on the table. Unable to help herself, she gave him a sideways hug. He patted her gently on the arm. “Acknowledged. Bring him home,” was all he said.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

Everything then becomes a blur after that. People rush in and out of the room, Vision gives orders that echo in her head but don’t stop enough for her to register them. Then, the garage door opens, and Darcy is shoving her way through bodies to reach for the man she’d feared was dead for the past few weeks. He was between Clint and Natasha, his arms around their shoulders, still unconscious. Wanda was just behind them, making sure they had it handled. Trembling, she cups his cheek in her hand, stroking the bristly hairs and trying to reassure her heart that he was alive and safe and _here_.

 

“Buck,” Steve breathed in relief. He reached to copy Darcy, but stopped before he made contact with Bucky’s shoulder.

 

Vision nudged them to the side, urging them to let Natasha and Clint pass so they could take him to the infirmary. Darcy, reluctant to take her eyes off of him, found her body protesting the increasing distance between the two of them.

 

“I am opposed to declare this now, but I am afraid that the extraction went far too effortlessly.”

 

“What?” Darcy said. “What do you mean?”

 

While Steve had the same puzzled expression as her, Wanda’s was reluctantly uncertain. “He means that it was too easy to get Bucky out of there.”

 

“But… there were guns. And people. And people firing on you. A lot of people died.”

 

“That should not cause us to conclude that the resistance was defeated ,” Vision insisted. “The best chessmen will easily sacrifice a pawn for the queen.”

 

“I can see why you’re worried,” Steve said. “But if he did want us to get Bucky, why? We’ve already scanned for trackers and tech and his bloodwork came back clean. No one from our side was captured and Vision scrambled the cameras and servers to the point that they’re unusable.”

 

“The answer to that question eludes me,” he admitted.

 

Wanda said, “Well, there’s no turning back now. I need to talk to Nat and Clint; they’ve decided to stay until they’re sure things have calmed down.”

 

“In other words, they’re suspicious too.”

 

Wanda shrugged. “Yell if he wakes up.”

 

“I’ll join you,” Vision said. “There are calls I must make for Morozko.”

 

And then there were two.

 

There was an awkward silence for a moment, before—

 

“You’re a new friend of Bucky’s?” Steve questioned with a tight smile.

 

“Er… kinda.” A new client, new friend, new lover, and new girlfriend. “I met him fairly recently but recently we’ve gotten a little closer.”

 

Understanding lit his eyes. “Ah. Happy to hear it. Bucky’s always busy with work with Morozko and… and the other matters.”

 

Jeez, this guy was so uncomfortable at his attempt at obfuscation, she almost pitied him. “You mean the whole sketchy mafia thing?”

 

“Yeah, that,” Steve said awkwardly. “So… how long have you known?”

 

“A couple weeks or so,” she shrugged. “They weren’t going to tell me but had to choose between that or shooting me in the forehead after we got caught in a firefight with the Triad. And well…. I’d gotten too many recipes from Milena for that to happen.”

 

“Was everybody okay?” he asked in concern.

 

“Left without a scratch, which is more than I can say for them.”

 

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Steve stared off into space with a light frown.

 

Wanting to speak but not really feeling it was her place, Darcy only said, “Thanks.”

 

A few hours later, Vision and Wanda had everything sorted. Loose ends were tied and while Bucky’s seconds had people looking for Pierce, there was nothing more for them to do besides wait for Bucky to wake up.

 

Darcy planted herself in a chair at Bucky’s side and refused to leave until he woke up. The others cycled through visiting him, since they all had other obligations.

 

The first time Milena brought food for her to eat at his bedside, she told her, “He’ll wake up soon.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because he has you waiting for him.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

Darcy kept her eyes on Vision’s as he studied her critically. An easy smile fought to grow at his narrowed eyes.

 

“I call BS,” he announced.

 

She nodded at the pile of cards, her smile forming into a smug grin. “Check it.”

 

He examined the top three cards on the pile and sighed in defeat. “Excellent bluff.” He accepted the cards into his own, ignoring her cackles.

 

Playing BS with Vision was turning out to be the most entertaining way to pass the time. Darcy’s eyes had grown tired reading her book and had suckered Vision into playing. She had refused to play anything like poker, where she knew Vision would ruin the game by doing calculations in his head, much to his chagrin.

 

“So, are you ready to accept my offer?” Darcy asked.

 

“What offer?” Vision returned wryly. “The one where I would buy a Wii and you would teach me the, and I quote, ‘awesomeness of Smash Bros and Mario Kart’?”

 

“It would be crazy fun bonding time where all of us try to destroy each other, behind and beyond the wheel,” Darcy argued. “How is that not the best offer you’ve ever heard?”

 

“Wanda explicitly told me to decline any sort of deal that involved buying a Nintendo device.”

 

“Well, Wanda doesn’t know what she’s giving up! I am the queen of all things pop culture, and I treat my subjects well. I would never harm them in any way.”

 

“Wanda begs to differ—Bucky.”

 

Heart leaping into her throat, she turns and follows Vision’s eyes to the sight of Bucky, blinking at his surroundings.

 

“Bucky! Oh my god, you’re awake!” Dropping her cards, she flew from her seat near his legs to grasp his hand. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Зимний солдат активен.”

 

Smile still on her face, she said in bewilderment, “What?” Darcy studied his face, his eyes.

 

But instead of the warm eyes Darcy had gotten used to since she had met him, cold, hard lasers took her in. Assessing her.

 

“Darcy,” Vision grabbed her arm and shoved her towards the door. “Run! Get Steve.”

 

“Why? I don’t—”

 

A loud crash rattled through her as Vision was wrenched away from her and thrown into the opposite wall. Stumbling into the door, Darcy found Bucky fully standing and showing no signs of recognition of Vision or Darcy.

 

Vision, shaking off the impact fairly quickly, was only concerned about her. “Darcy, you must fetch Steve. Pierce has compromised Bucky and there is no telling what he will do.”

 

Snarling, Bucky charged Vision, going for his throat. Vision dodged neatly and did his best to engage him without harming him, but his unexpected opponent was savage in his attack, clear in his goal to bring Vision down permanently. There was a wildness to his moves, a lack of refinement or thought clear in the way he moved. In no time, Bucky had shredded Vision’s defense and had his fingers wrapped around Vision’s throat.

 

“No!” Darcy cried out, and then she was right there, uselessly trying to pry fingers from Vision’s neck. “Bucky, that’s Vision, one of your best friends. You don’t want to kill him; loosen your fingers, please, wake up—”

 

Impatient with her attempt to stop him, or possibly with the sound of her voice grating on his nerves, she got his attention. With one backhand hit to her face, Darcy was stunned, her reality and the pain making the outside world go fuzzy. That is, until a noose wound around her and began to constrict.

 

She gasped for air, hands scrabbling at Bucky’s. “Bucky,” she choked. She fought for oxygen, her lungs weakly struggling to inflate.

 

All the while, Bucky remained remote. And, for a second, Darcy came the numbing realization that she might die right then.

 

A loud crash fuzzily registered with her, and then the pressure at her throat vanished. Immediately, Darcy curled up and went through a coughing fit, desperately trying to fill her lungs with air.

 

She looked up to find Wanda, Steve, and Vision surrounding Bucky, working with a synchronization that was hypnotizing. One would block a hit while the other fainted and the third dealt a blow. A dawning realization of how this was going to end seemed to strike Bucky. He roared, a noise of pure rage and frustration of being beaten and caged. Then, Vision, mouth set in a grim line, took advantage of a window in Bucky’s guard, turning all his strength from his massive physique into his arm and fist and clocked him straight on the temple.

 

Bucky crumpled to the ground.

 

“Apologies, шпион.” Vision said solemnly.

 

“What happened?” Steve panted.

 

“We must secure him downstairs,” Vision spoke to Wanda. “He will be just as feral when he awakens and we will need time to prepare the deprogramming program.”

 

“You don’t mean—” Steve’s void had a helpless plead to it.

 

“I’m afraid I do.” Vision had a gentleness in his voice Darcy had never heard before. “Pierce must have had enough time reimplementing the procedures he had subjected Bucky to previously, enough to give him the drive to kill us all upon awakening.”

 

Wanda placed her hand on Steve’s forearm. She had a sadness to her, but she only said, “He’ll be fine, Steve. We’ve done this before; we know what to do. It might even go faster with you here right at the start instead of halfway through.”

 

Steve blew out a breath, his head bowed. “This wasn’t supposed to happen again,” he muttered. “He was supposed to be free of Pierce and what he made him do. After last time—”

 

“That’s not your fault, though,” Darcy was speaking with a rasp before she even realized it. Caught under Steve and Wanda’s scrutiny, Darcy swallowed, grimacing at the ache in her throat, but plowed on. “You seem to be really guilty for someone that had no part in a sick old asshole who decided to hurt another person in a way that’s incomprehensible. You care about the bestest friend you’ve had since you were kids. But don’t put imaginary blame on your shoulders when it will only keep you from helping the person who’s really hurt in all this.”

 

Steve was giving her that dumbfounded expression she was starting to get familiar with. Wanda was openly smirking at her. “Where have you been for all my life?”

 

Darcy sniffly. “Preparing my time as Queen of Pop Culture.”

 

“Dream on, Светляк,” Wanda turned to Steve. “When you’ve recovered from Darcy shifting your worldview on its axis, you can help me start planning how to break the programming.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Steve said distractedly.

 

Wanda passed her on the way out. “Try not to break him any more than you’ve already done.”

 

“I don’t break, I mold in my image.”

 

An awkward silence fell over the pair and Darcy started getting second thoughts. “I didn’t mean to tell you how to live your life—”

 

“No, I know.” Steve reassured her. “It’s funny, actually. You sounded just like Bucky just then.”

 

Darcy cocked her head. “I sound a lot like Mr. Broody-McBrooderpants?”

 

Steve gave her an indulgent smile. “Not giving up. Or taking any shit.” It was funny how odd the swear came from his mouth.

 

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you had some personal experience with that.”

 

“Really that obvious?” The college student gave him a look that said _please_. “Okay, yes, especially I would be a little...stubborn when we were younger. I would get frustrated because I wanted to make a difference in the world but my body weighed me down. I tried not to let that stop me.”

 

Darcy could read between the lines. She could easily picture a little Steve rushing to help at even the slightest hint of trouble and Bucky, being the more sensible of the two, having to tug his best friend with all his might to stay still. “You two were close.”

 

Steve smiled bitterly. “Yeah, we were.”

 

Uncomfortable with how downtrodden the conversation had gotten—along with the obvious unresolved issues bubbling to the surface between the two—she blurted, “He misses you, you know.”

 

Steve looked at her and she winced at her own loud mouth. “You guys seem to have one of those bonds of eternal friendship. That doesn’t go away easily. It’s kind of in the definition of eternal.”

 

“I appreciate you trying to console me, ma’am, but what happened between me and Bucky isn’t something that can be solved as easily with a talk.” He looked away from her. “It stopped being that easy years ago.”

 

She tried to respond to that, but with a quick, “Excuse me, ma’am,” he was gone in an instant. For such a big guy, he sure moved quickly.

 

In a slightly befuddled haze, the only thing she could do was call out weakly, “It’s Darcy.”

 

Well, so much for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Зимний солдат активен = The Winter Soldier is active.  
> шпион = spy  
> Светляк = firefly
> 
> I have to say, one of the reasons this took a little longer to post was because I wasn't particularly happy with how I handled the search effort for Bucky. But, I wanted to get this out there, so I kind of did a rushed job. Please tell me if you find any grammar/spelling errors! Let me know what you think about the chapter, and Steve!!!!


	23. Chapter 23

She jumped when her phone rang at her side. Now that she was so disconnected virtually from other people, it was strange when people started contacting her.

 

Answering the call, she said, “Hello?”

 

“Hi, sweetie,” Darcy’s dad responded. “How are you doing?”

 

Forgetting about Jane for a moment, she rolled onto her back. “Hey, dad. I’m not bad, just relaxing in bed. How are you doing?”

 

“I’m doing well, Tired from work, but happy to come home to your mom every night.”  
  
“Mom doing well too?”

 

“Yeah, she’s plating dinner right now. She says hi.”

 

“Hi right back.” She listened to her dad report her message.

 

“We heard that Barnes was in an accident the other day. Is he alright?”

 

She swallowed a lump in her throat, preparing to lie convincingly to her parents. “Yeah, he was in a car accident. He’s okay, but he needs some time to recover.”

 

“Well, if you talk to him at all, let him know that we’re thinking of him.”

 

“I will,” she said, hoping that she could pass on that message soon. She truly missed him, his presence and support.

 

Her dad cleared his throat, and Darcy felt a thread of suspicion. “There was another thing that we wanted to tell you,” he said carefully, and that suspicion quickly morphed into dread. A number of possibilities filled her head, each of them worse than the last.

 

“Cathy,” that was Ian’s mom, “just got informed by the police that Ian was found last night in an alley. According to the reports, it seems like he’s been... _gone_...for months.”

 

_Oh._

 

That...hurt more than she had expected.

 

“Darcy?” her dad asked quietly. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

 

“Do they...do they know how he died?”

 

“They’re planning on doing the autopsy today.”

 

Darcy turned over and curled in on herself. She couldn’t find any words to say, and her dad was kind enough not to expect any from her.

 

“Your mom is helping Cathy to plan the funeral. Cathy wants it as soon as possible, but is worried about you not being able to make it.”

 

For a moment, Darcy’s throat closed and she couldn’t breathe. Because, regardless of whether she wanted to be there or not, to say goodbye to Ian, there was no way Wanda and Vision would let her go. Not only would she be exposing herself, but also endangering her parents, Ian’s family, and a lot of other people that Darcy cared about. She refused to take that risk.

 

“I’ll ask,” she said cautiously, “but I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.”

 

“Why?” They won’t let you leave for the weekend?”

 

“Well, no…”

 

“Then why wouldn’t you be able to come?”

 

Darcy was openly grimacing now.

 

Her saving grace came in the form of a knock on the door. “Darcy?”

 

Oh, she could kiss Vision. “Hey, dad, I gotta go. I’ll let you know about making it out there, okay? Love you, say hi to mom for me, bye.”

 

She hung up quickly, then scrambled to answer the door. “Vision, you have become my knight in shining armor.”

 

“I am pleased to hear it, though I am unsure how I accomplished that title. If I may have a word?”

 

“Step right into my shop.”

  
  
“I wanted to discuss with you some ground rules in order to accomodate Bucky’s rehabilitation program.”

 

“Right, yeah. If there’s anything you need me to do.”

 

“There are a couple that I want to overview with you.”

 

She nodded at him to continue.

 

“Firstly, I want to strictly advise against you visiting him without Wanda, Captain Rogers, or myself present.”

 

She immediately wanted to protest, but she could also feel the ghost of his fingers pressing deep into her throat. Sucking in a breath, she asked, “For how long?”

 

“Until we all agree that he is stable enough not to forget himself, even under stress.” His mouth twisted into a grimace.

 

Vision could instantly sense her reluctance. “Darcy, please. When Bucky recovers, nothing would enrage him more than the idea that we allowed him to harm you when he was not in control of himself.”

 

“Except for, you now, the monsters who used and degraded him and turned him against the people he loves.” She couldn’t help but spit out darkly. The difference in levels of wrong were too much to even think about them together.

 

“No,” Vision said firmly. “The opposite, actually.”

 

“How can you even say that?” Darcy cried out in outrage. “What they did to him—”

 

“The actions that turned Bucky into what he is now were committed by immoral enemies that Bucky has despised even before he was promoted from a solder. If we were to let you near Bucky, it would be trusted friends and seconds-in-command who would not only be hurting you, but also him as well.”

 

He let that sink in, breaking any anger or offense she had. “Do you promise to follow our rules?”

 

She nodded mutely.

 

“Thank you.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

Rehab began.

 

From what Darcy observed, it was a long, grueling process and, no matter if someone had a direct hand in Bucky’s deprogramming or not, everyone seemed to be having a hard time. Wanda and Vision seemed to return from the holding cell in the basement where they were keeping Bucky with bruises and broken bones and weariness on their faces. Milena and Nora had extra lines on their faces and bags under their eyes. They buried themselves in their work and asked Vision every day if there was anything they could do. Their faces fell each time Vision politely declined, and they buried themselves in more work. And the cycle went on.

 

As much as Darcy wanted to work with Vision, Wanda, and Natasha, her promise to Vision remained constantly in the back of her mind forced the words asking to help down her throat. Instead, she followed Milena and Nora’s lead and threw herself into learning and improving the Bratva and Morozko’s security system. Nora praised her progress and guaranteed that she’d ace Culver’s systems security class if she decided to take it next semester. And when staring at code wasn’t enough to drown out the noise in her head, she turned on the news and tried to focus on the world’s problems or take notes on cybersecurity publications.

 

Two weeks passed before they finally had some good news.

 

“He admitted that Steve seemed familiar to him.” Wanda told her late one night as they made hot cocoa. “He doesn’t seem to know how and is frustrated by it, but it’s progress. He’s stopped trying to kill us. Mostly.”

 

Darcy stared hard at the swirling mix of warm milk and cocoa. “That’s great,” she breathed, a bit of the tension she’d been holding easing. He was coming back to them. It was slower progress than she’d like—she so desperately wished he could be whole and present right now, this very second—but as long as there was progress, he could take as long as he needed to heal. “Please keep me updated.”

 

“You know I will.”

 

They both sipped their hot chocolates.

 

“Nora’s planning on letting me help her find Pierce.”

 

Wanda looked like she wanted to say a dozen things, but she only said, “You’ll be careful?”

 

“Nora will be looking over my shoulder the whole time.”

 

“Bucky will not be happy.”

 

“It doesn’t matter what Bucky will think, Wanda. We need to find him and finish this, and if I can do something to make that happen, then I’m going to do it.”

 

Wanda said simply, “I know. Keep me updated?”

 

Relieved that she seemed to understand, Darcy nodded. Then, she bit her lip. Wanda noticed. “What is it, Светляк?

 

“It’s just...I wanted to ask you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to respond.”

 

“You won’t know until you ask me.”

 

Darcy made a gesture that said _Yeah, okay_. “I really want to reach out to my friend Jane. She’s really suspicious of how I just vanished without contacting her, no matter how much I email and text her excuses to try to reassure her.”

 

“You think calling her will help.”

 

“I do. She likes to brag that she can tell my mood from one sentence.” Darcy hurried to add, “I promise that I won’t hint or talk about where I am or the Bratva and Albanian stuff.”

 

“I know you won’t. I’m just wondering if you have any other reason for wanting to talk to her.”

 

Busted. Darcy swallowed and dropped her gaze to her mug. “It’s just...in the past few days, I’ve really missed her. Things have been really crazy and even though I’m going to constantly be censoring myself, I feel like talking to her will clear my head. If you think that it will put her or any of us in danger, then I won’t call her, but…”

 

Wanda thought for half a minute. “Because of McSweeney, Pierce already knows our location. As long as you use a burner phone and Nora assures me that Pierce won’t be able to exploit it, I don’t have any problems with it.”

 

“Really?” Darcy asked hopefully.

 

Wanda gave her a crooked smile. “I think you more than deserve it. Clear it with Nora, then go for it.”

 

Smiling wide, Darcy launched herself at Wanda for a hug. “Thank you.”

 

Wanda hugged her back. “Of course, Светляк.”

 

They released each other. Wanda drained her mug, then stood up. “Time to get back. Another marathon tonight? What’s left on our watchlist?”

 

“ _Stranger Things_ , _Game of Thrones_ , and a couple movies I can’t remember. Nora also was going to add more to today.”

 

“Клянусь, это бесконечно,” Wanda muttered.

 

“What was that?” Darcy demanded.

 

Wanda raised her hands innocently. “Nothing! Nothing at all.”

 

“You’re gonna start teaching me Russian tomorrow,” she called back, a grin on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Светляк = firefly  
> Клянусь, это бесконечно. = I swear, it's never-ending.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience with this chapter.... Just as a warning, updates might come a little later since I don't have the entire chapters ready.

Darcy nervously gnawed at her bottom lip. Her thumb hovered over the call button, Jane’s number already entered.

 

Nora already promised her that she was good to go. Darcy had already rehearsed every answer to every single question Darcy could think Jane would ask. Now, it was simply a matter of getting the goddamn courage to actually call.

 

 _Come on, Darcy._ With a burst of courage, Darcy’s finger tapped the button. Quickly, she raised the phone to her ear, fingers from her free hand drumming on her thigh.

 

The phone rang enough times to know that Jane was either in a science bender or crashed from one. After a moment, Darcy assumed it was the latter and was ready to hang up, when the ringing cut off and a distracted “Hello?” sounded.

 

Mind scrambled from the sudden answer, Darcy managed a “Jane?”

 

There was a crash from the speaker, then a frantic, “ _Darcy?_ ”

 

Darcy couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Janey, please tell me you didn’t break the spectrometer.”

 

“Holy sh— _Darcy!_ ”

 

“Hey, Jane.”

 

“Oh, don’t you ‘Hey, Jane’ me!” Jane spluttered, her voice rising. Darcy could picture it easily. “No calls, texts, or emails, just the police knocking at my door telling me that my friend Ian was _dead_ and my other friend was missing and would you happen to know where we could find her, Ms. Foster?”

 

Darcy winced. “She had known that Jane was going to be like this, but it didn’t mean it was any less hard. That, and Jane was the fiercest woman she knew, with the tenacity to match. “I’m sorry I put you through that, Jane, and if there had been any other way, I would have told you in a heartbeat. But Morozko had me sign a contract to keep things quiet until it was official and suddenly I was signing a NDA and I had to be on the road to make it on time and my phone had died—”

 

“Ever heard of a payphone?”

 

“ _I’m sorry, Jane._ I know I fucked up. I know that—” she choked up suddenly, and a weight she knew had been dangling over her head for a while suddenly snapped free of its restraints and fell to crush her.

 

Even though they hadn’t talked in months, Darcy knew that Jane could feel Ian’s ghost between them like she could.

 

“You weren’t even there for the funeral,” Jane said quietly. It wasn’t quite an accusation, but it still felt like it.

 

“I know.” Darcy thumped her head against the headboard. Feeling a little raw, she said, “The last time I talked to him, we were arguing. He had been keeping something from me, and suddenly I felt like I was meeting him for the first time and I wasn’t sure what I liked what I saw.”

 

“When I found out that I wasn’t going to be able to go to the funeral, I wasn’t sure whether or not I was upset that I couldn’t go.” She said brokenly, “I still don’t know whether I’m upset that I couldn’t go.”

 

There was silence on the other line. Darcy closed her eyes.

 

“So I’ve been trying to eat less Pop Tarts.”

 

A rush of relief at hearing Jane’s olive branch flooded Darcy. She laughed weakly. “That’s really funny. How’s that working out for you?”

 

“Hey!” Jane said playfully. “I’ll have you know that I lasted for a good week without Pop Tarts before I gave up.”

 

And with that, the tension broke. As Jane talked further about college life and her idiotic workload, Darcy felt an easing of the tension that she had once believed would never leave.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

It was past midnight and Darcy was laughing about Jane’s rants on the idiocy of fellow group members and her boyfriend Thor’s ridiculously gallant attempts to pound them into submission.

 

A shadow stretched.

 

She barely managed to stifle a shriek. She lunged for the taser and panic button. Halfway through her scramble, a cloud must have passed from its obstruction of the moon and the light spilled over his profile.

 

Her hand hit the bedside table at an awkward angle. Pain shot up her forearm, but she paid no attention to it.

 

Bucky looked more lost than she’d ever seen. His hair had grown to the point where strands were falling over his ears, and he had yet to share, his stubble having turned into a full beard. His clothes were impersonal and hung off his frame.

 

She sat frozen, afraid that if she even moved a muscle that he’d evaporate.

 

His body language was so different from when she’d last seen him. He trembled all over and he was resolutely not looking at her.

 

“Hey,” Darcy breathed, almost afraid to scare him. “Are you okay?”

 

He said nothing.

 

After a moment, she said, “I’ve missed you. I hate with all my heart that you got kidnapped again.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Darcy blinked at the sudden voice. “I’m sorry?”

 

The low light caught the edges of the metal plates of his arm. She could see how it was curled into a tight fist. “I’m sorry.” His voice was stronger now, but the dark edge to his tone never faded.

 

Darcy crawled over the bed towards him. “What are you sorry for?” Darcy asked softly.

 

His eyes flicked to her once before returning to the floor. “I thought that I could be good for you. That I could give you what you deserve. But I remember now.”

 

Darcy reared back in shock. “What...what are you talking back?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky repeated. He walked out of the door, fading back into the shadows.

 

“Bucky!” Darcy clambered off the bed and ran after him. But when she got to the hallway, he had already disappeared into the house.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

“I am so sick of this,” Darcy moaned. She pressed her palms against her eyelids before moving her hands up to card her fingers through her hair.

 

Wanda patted her shoulder in consolidation. “Give him time,” she said quietly. “Right now, he’s guilty and trying to process what happened. He’ll come to his senses soon.”

 

“I know,” Darcy sighed. “I mean, I hope that he’ll realize how unrealistic he’s being and that he shouldn’t be punishing himself for something he didn’t intentionally do. I’m not saying that he needs to speed up his recovery; I know that healing can’t be rushed. Not that I’m saying I don’t want it to happen soon—”

 

Wanda wisely cut her off. “I understand. We all feel the same way.”

 

Darcy crossed her arms. “I just wish I could help him in some way. That he’d let me help him.” She confessed quietly, hurt and vulnerability constantly picking away at her. She might have only met Bucky months earlier, but she already deeply cared about him and hatred to see him hurting.

 

“He knows,” Wanda said with a clear certainty. “Trust me, deep down, he knows. And you being there, ready to listen and support in any way—like you’re doing now—makes a lot.”

 

“Mmmm.” Darcy wasn’t so sure.

 

Wanda pried her arms apart to link their arms in solidarity. “Cheer up, Светляк. It’ll all work out. Just give it time.”

 

A bang from outside of the room startled both women. Wanda immediately shoved Darcy behind her. “What was that?” Darcy asked wildly.

 

“Stay behind me,” Wanda snapped. She pulled a gun from her waist, cocking it and aiming it. “We have to leave now, we’re going to head to the basement to get out of here.”

 

Darcy followed her out of the room and into the hall before they were surrounded. “Get down on the ground!” a stranger shouted.

 

Four men surrounded the pair of them, all in full tactical gear and guns aimed straight towards them. In big, white letters, the word “FBI” was emblazoned across their chests.

 

“FBI,” one of them announced. “Drop the gun, and get down on the ground now!”

 

“What is this?” Darcy shouted.

 

“ _Drop the gun!_ ” the guy said shouted louder.

 

Darcy felt Wanda lower herself to the ground to place her gun on the ground. “Don’t shoot,” Wanda said cautiously. “I’m putting down the gun now.”

 

“Wanda,” Darcy implored.

 

“Just do as they say, Darcy. It’ll be alright,” Wanda murmured.

 

As soon as Wanda backed away, they descended upon them. Two of the agents converged upon Wanda, pushing her into the wall to cuff her. The other two twisted Darcy’s arms behind her back. Cold metal encircled her wrists.

 

In a full panic now, Darcy shouted, “Wanda!”

 

“It’ll be okay, Darcy!”

 

And with a jerk of her cuffed arms, Darcy was led away, her last sight of Wanda being escorted away with a gun aimed at her back.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, I'm a week late!!! Better late than never I guess lol. The suspension must've been killing y'all, so thanks for being so patient!!! I really appreciate it.
> 
> And without further ado, enjoy!!!

What followed was just pure panic and confusion.

 

Darcy was shoved into a car and driven to an unmarked building. From there, she was pulled from the car and forcibly escorted through sterile, impersonal hallways and into an interrogation room. Darcy briefly resisted the agent who moved to shackle her to the metal table, but his hold on her was as airtight and Darcy was forced to sit in the chair so that she wouldn’t fall on her face.

 

“I demand a lawyer,” was the first thing that Darcy said since Wanda was taken away.

 

The agent ignored her, simply walking away as soon as she was secured.

 

“Hey!” Darcy yelled as he slammed the door behind him. “I want a lawyer! You can’t keep me like this!”

 

The door opened again only seconds later. A different man walked in, one that was tall and blond and was seriously good-looking. He carried a simple folder and sat across from her casually.

 

“Darcy Lewis,” were the first words he said. “You’re a long way away from where you’re supposed to be.”

 

“I want a lawyer,” Darcy demanded loudly. “I won’t talk to anyone without a lawyer present.”

 

He shrugged. “Continue to be difficult, and we’ll just throw you in with the rest of them.”

 

Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

 

“The people you were living with are murderers, Miss Lewis.” He studied her reaction to that. Or rather, lack thereof. “Perhaps you already knew that.”

 

“You don’t have any proof.”

 

He snorted. “Ma’am, I’ve been on the Bratva case for four years now. I know the names of everyone in the organization. I know what they’ve done. And I have enough proof to send Mr. Barnes, Mr. Stone, and Miss Maximoff into a hole in the ground until the day they did and throw away the key. Their lives are over.

 

“Your fate, on the other hand, is slightly more opaque. It all depends on what you say.”

 

Darcy swallowed hard. “What is your name?”

 

“My name is Special Agent Thor Odinson.”

 

“Agent Odinson, you have to let them go—”

 

Agent Odinson gave her a look of incredulity. “They have broken dozens of laws, Darcy. They’re criminals, and they deserve to be brought to justice.”

 

“They’re good people! They were just trying to protect themselves and each other—”

 

“They went into the Brotherhood with their eyes wide open, Miss Lewis. You cannot deflect them from that.” His eyebrows furrowed as he studied her. “Have you forgotten so easily who these people are, Darcy?”

 

He opened the folder he brought in, taking out a handful of photos. He placed them before her one by one.

 

Photos of a man with a gunshot wound to the head. Of a car wreck so bad the vehicles are barely recognizable. A carpet soaked with blood. Bodies, torn and mangled beyond recognition, one of whom even had their eyes gouged out.

 

Darcy swallowed the bile in her throat.

 

Still watching her carefully, the special agent said gently, “It is normal to be sympathetic when you live with them so closely. But never forget who these people are.”

 

He left her there with the photos glaring accusingly at her.

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

She sat in that for hours in a daze. Dozens of people walked past her but none stopped for her. Soon, they all became blurs of color passing through her sight.

 

Inside, she was a swirling mess of doubt.

 

Scenes of Sunday morning breakfasts and jokes and laughter clashed with glazed eyes and motionless figures.

 

Had she become blind to the fact that she had befriended murderers and thieves and liars? Had she dismissed the body count and the grieving families caused by them? Had she fallen into the trap?

 

“Darcy?” A blur in front of her asked, and Darcy blinked her eyes into focus.

 

There stood Jane, eyes filled with concern.

 

“Oh my god, Jane.” Jane hurried over and miraculously produced a set of keys. As soon as she uncuffed Darcy from the table, Darcy lunged forward to tackle her in a hug. Jane staggered from the weight of her but she was hugging her back just as fiercely. Darcy was crying before she knew it.

 

And Jane, bless her heart, held her through the entire thing, crooning words of comfort and reassurance. Soon, they ended up sitting down, Darcy’s head in the crook of Jane’s neck.

 

When Darcy was done, she had never felt so drained. She sluggishly clutched her friend closer.

 

“I didn’t know what to do, Janey,” she said, her voice small. “I don’t know what to think.”

 

“Tell me,” Jane commanded, and Darcy does, everything spilling out of her like a waterfall.

 

When Darcy finished, Jane sat there for a moment, processing. Surprisingly, instead of blowing her top over what her friend had gotten into, Jane remained calm.

 

“Let me ask you this,” Jane said. “If the FBI hadn’t stormed in and you were safe from the Albanian mafia and had gone back to Culver...would you have seen them again?”

 

“I…” And her mind went to the movie marathons with Wanda and the fun-hearted debates with Vision and cooking with Milena. She thought about waking up to Bucky’s face smiling at her in adoration and him pressing a kiss to her forehead.

 

“Yes.” The answer was simple, effortless. “Yes, I would have.”

 

Jane smiled. “You have good judgment with people, Darcy. And the fact that they’ve fallen in love with you and done everything in their power to keep you safe says a lot about them. They’re a lot better than that fuckboy Justin.”

 

The heavy moment passed, and Darcy groaned. “Oh my god, can we please forget about Justin?”

 

“No, because the asshole will always be on my list for what he did to you.”

 

A thought occurred to Darcy. “Hey, wait a second, how the hell did you get here anyway?”

 

“Eh, I’ve got a friend in high places...a _really_ good friend.” She grinned wickedly. “I told you about that blond god I met a few months ago.”

 

“Uh, the one you described to me as the guy with arms as thick as tree trunks and abs so firm you could bounce a quarter off of?”

 

“Well, he just so happens to work at the FBI.”

 

“Damn, that’s—Wait a second, do you mean the blond FBI agent named _Thor Odinson_ , the guy that’s heading the investigation into Bucky and looks like a literal Adonis?”

 

“That’s the one.”

 

“Holy shit, Janey, what a score. You are one lucky woman.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

It took a lot of planning, three phone calls, and Ben and Jerry’s Americone Dream.

 

Three hours later, she was barrelling into Agent Odinson’s office door with one goal in mind and enough confidence that she might actually get it.

 

“You’re wrong,” Darcy declared bluntly.

 

The agent looked up from his files, seemingly unsurprised by her sudden appearance. “What am I wrong about?”

 

“About blinding myself to Bucky, Vision, and Wanda’s darker sides. My first meeting with Wanda, I saw exactly what she was capable of. Bucky tried to kill me one night because he thought I was an intruder. But as soon as I got to know them, I never worried about myself. My safety was always in the minds of those people you think are cold-hearted murderers. And I won’t let you throw them in some cell and toss the key and forget about them when they’ve done so much for me.”

 

He regarded her for a moment.

 

“So you’d like the FBI to forget about the crimes they’ve committed.”

 

“ _No_ ,” she responded impatiently. “I want _both_ of you to get what you want. I want both of you to work together to take out a guy you’ve been after for decades.” 

 

Odinson cocked his head with piqued interest. He gestured with his hand: go on.

 

“Alexander Pierce.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all deserve so much after putting up with my bullshit "schedule." Have a chapter, sweet lovelies! Hopefully it's decent; I've only had four hours of sleep lol

“Stop pacing, Darce. You’re giving me a headache watching you.”

 

“Does it not feel like they’re taking a long time? They wouldn’t be taking this long if they weren’t having trouble.” Darcy played with the zipper of her jacket as her mind spun with possibilities of what they were doing.

 

“What trouble could they possibly be in? They’re probably trying to figure out how exactly they’re going to take out Pierce.”

 

Darcy gnawed on her lip. “You’re probably right,” she conceded.

 

“You know I am. Stop stressing unnecessarily.”

 

“Fine, mom,” the restless college student grumped. She abandoned her post watching the door and plopped onto the couch next to Jane. Seeking a little contact, she laid her head on Jane’s shoulder.

 

“it’s funny, I thought you’d be a lot more chill since you’re not taking any classes.”

 

“I wish. Between fearing for my life and working on MPS’s security system, I’ve almost been as stressed as I was taking APMA 1650.”

 

Jane whistled. She knew how much Darcy struggled with math. “Damn.”

 

“How have you classes been? We hadn’t even hit midterms when I left.”

 

“I mean, they’re fine. I just have a lot of labs that take up a lot of time and mostly has a lot of busywork. My research with Professor Selvig has been so cool, though. I’ve been getting firsthand experience with all this equipment—”

 

The door opened, and Darcy’s head immediately shot up from Jane’s shoulder. In walked Agent Odinson with a frown on his face.

 

Darcy’s fears, forgotten earlier, quickly bubbled to the surface. “What happened?” Darcy demanded.

 

“I talked to each of them individually. Miss Maximoff and Mr. Shade seemed very receptive to striking a deal lessening their sentence in exchange to cooperating with the FBI to catch Pierce,” Odinson said.

 

“But?” Jane asked.

 

“But Mr. Barnes refused the offer.”

 

Darcy spluttered. “ _What?_ ”

 

“Mr. Barnes refused the offer,” he repeated.

 

Darcy inhaled to talk, then stopped. Because, well, _what the hell?_ Of all the possible scenarios she had cooked up in her head, this one had failed to cook up that possibility. In her defense, though, that was because it was common sense for a mafioso to take a deal reducing his likely several decade long sentence.

 

Darcy flung out her hands. “Okay, but why?”

 

Odinson shook his head. “He did not say.”

 

“Then let me talk to him! I can convince him to agree.”

 

He was already shaking his head. “He’s in a maximum security room off site. I cannot take you there; it would be a massive breach in protocol.”

 

“How long have you been looking to catch Pierce?” Darcy challenged.

 

The FBI agent didn’t take the bait. “About as long as we’ve been looking to catch James Barnes and his two seconds-in-command.”

 

“Don’t bullshit me. Bucky may have been pretty high up on the Bratva food chain, but Pierce is the top dog. If you got Pierce, you would cripple the entire Albanian mafia and would create a power vacuum that would sprinkle chaos into organized crime for a good while. If you also managed to score the heads of one of the main subgroups of the Bratva? Hello, pay raise, along with a lot of good places for the FBI.”

 

Odinson reached behind him to rub the back of his neck. He sighed in defeat. “I’ll talk to the Director.”

 

Darcy pumped her fist in the air. Jane chuckled behind her glass of water. She’d lost to Darcy several times in handful of arguments; she’d had a good idea of how this was going to go.

 

Odinson proceeded to have a harrowing phone conversation with the Director. Darcy tried following the conversation, but she couldn’t hear the other voice and Odinson seemed to be intentionally cryptic.

 

It felt like the conversation went on forever, though in reality it was likely only took five. He set the phone down.

 

“What did he say—” Darcy made a surprised noise when Odinson suddenly appeared next to her and was dragging her out of the room.

 

“Thor—?” Jane called out from behind them.

 

“We’ll be back in a moment!” He replied over his shoulder.

 

“Where are you taking me?” Darcy’s feet had to move quickly to keep up with him as he tugged her down a staircase.

 

“We have to act quickly,” is all he said, not being helpful at all.

 

Darcy tried to protest some more, but he only ignored her. They went all the way down into the basement, then made a series of turns into hallways that looked like carbon copies of one another.

 

Finally, they turned left and met a door at the end of the hall, made of steel with a touchpad at its side and looking quite intimidating; Darcy honestly would expect it to appear in a bank. Though, this _was_ the FBI, so maybe she shouldn’t be this surprised. Maybe she was surprised that the FBI was exactly what she had imagined?

 

Odinson pressed a series of buttons on the touchpad, followed by his thumb for a fingerprint scan. The pad chimed and the scary door opened with a clank of metal and a hiss.

 

“You have five minutes,” Odinson told her as she was pushed through the door.

 

Darcy yelped. “ _What?_ Are you locking me in here? Five minutes to do what? Hey!” she shouted, failing to squeeze back out through the door as he closed it behind her. The door rumbled as it locked her inside.

 

Darcy glowered at the shiny metal door. When she got out of this, she had a few words to say to Jane about her boyfriend. Namely, that he was cryptic as fuck and was a terrible communicator.

 

She sighed and turned away from the door. She appeared to be in a sort of waiting or transition room; she was standing in a small, rectangular room that had a series of lockers on one wall and a panel of controls next to it. Above the controls was a cut out filled with glass that overlooked into another room. Unable to see exactly what was inside, she peered through the glass. Her gaze took in the barren room save for one figure in the middle. Her breath caught.

 

In the center of an otherwise sterile chamber, a man was hunched in a chair. His hair was unkempt and brushed his ears. He wore plain clothes, a white T-shirt and sweatpants, and was barefoot. What really stood out was the gleaming metal arm peeking out from the shirt sleeve, which was bounded by a thick cuff clamped tightly to the arm of the chair.

 

Bucky kept his eyes down, silent. She figured he expected his visitor to be Odinson or another agent.

 

 _You have five minutes_. Odinson’s words echoed in her head. Five minutes to convince Bucky to take the deal.

 

Bucky broke the silence first. “I already told you no,” he said, his voice rough with disuse.

 

“You didn’t actually. You told Odinson that.”

 

Bucky’s head shot up. He bemusedly stared at her. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I got you a perfect plea deal,” she continued, ignoring his question. “Planned it all out, and made a dramatic enough argument that Odinson offered it to you. Wanda, and Vision, being the smart, sensible people they are, took it as soon as the question left the agent’s mouth. But you?”

 

Bucky’s mouth formed a thin line. He went back to staring at his lap.

 

Darcy shook her head. She couldn’t help but feel a swell of disappointment. He still couldn’t even look at her in the eye. She would feel angry about it if she wasn’t so exhausted. “At least give me a reason why. You owe me that much.”

 

Nothing. Not even a single twitch.

 

Fine. If he wasn’t going to talk, then she would talk to him death. “Let me guess,” she said, moving to sit right in front of him, her back to the wall. “Out of some idiotic guilt complex, you decide that you need to be punished for deeds you did not commit—”

 

“‘Did not commit’?” he snorted cynically. “You’re not amnesiac, Darcy, or that naive.”

 

“Yes, you’ve killed people, hurt people for the Bratva. Those actions are on you.” Bucky clenched his fists, a dark shadow falling over his face. She leaned forward, trying to catch his eye. “But if you’re talking about the time when you were captured and brainwashed to attempt to murder me and your friends, then no.”

 

He said nothing, but if the way his shoulders were hunched were any indication, he didn’t believe her.

 

She gentled her voice. “Bucky, anyone if your position would’ve done the exact same thing. Your mind was twisted to do something against your will, and that is not your fault. I don’t blame you for that, and you shouldn’t either.”

 

“You should.” The response was so quiet she almost thought she had imagined hearing it.

 

She rolled her eyes. “Bullshit. Bucky, I know you. I’ve seen you around the people you care about. You always do everything you can to make sure Vision, Wanda, and Milena are taken care of. You smile the most when they’re laughing and talking and teasing you. You’re their shield whenever someone tries to hurt them. This cold, heartless killer you think you are wouldn’t be as loved as you are if you were actually what you thought you are.”

 

He looked up at that, and she smiled at him, love and affection overtaking her. “Takes responsibility for the actual lives you’ve affected—not by locking yourself waste away, but by preventing others from getting the same fate. Getting justice from Pierce would save so many people, and getting the FBI’s support and resources would save so much bloodshed.”

 

She stood up. “It’s ultimately your decision,” she said quietly, “but think about it. Don’t let Pierce take more than he already has.”

 

✪ ✪ ✪

 

“What are we doing in this conference room?” Darcy grumbled.

 

“Some meeting,” Jane said absently. She was writing a paper due at midnight, so she was a lot less concerned about what was going on.

 

“What meeting? It’s not like we have anything else to do here.” Darcy glumly tried not to think about that room in the basement of the building.

 

“Oh my god, sit down and play Candy Crush or something. You’re making me nervous.”

 

“I can’t play anything; they took my phone,” Darcy whined. She fidgeted for a few seconds, before a thought occurred to her. “Has your hunky BF said anything about where I’m going after this? I’m still technically in danger and everything.”

 

At that, Jane’s attention was finally diverted. “He hasn’t said anything specifically,” she said. “But I know that you have a couple options. I’m sure Thor will talk to you about it. Maybe that’s what this is about.”

 

“Maybe…” Darcy said dubiously.

 

“And will you stop calling Thor my hunky BF?”

 

“Why? You don’t want to be constantly reminded of the fact that you have a wonderful BF who just so happens to be sexy as hell?”

 

“I mean, I already know he’s hot.”

 

“How’s the sex been?”

 

“ _Darcy!_ ”

 

The door opened, and Odinson walked in to find a blushing Jane and a smirking Darcy.

 

“Am I interrupting anything?” Odinson asked, amusement coloring his voice.

 

“Yes,” Darcy said at the same time as Jane said, “No!”

 

“It’s fine, Thor,” Jane said while elbowing Darcy. “What did you talk about?”

 

He stepped forward, revealing two figures behind him. Darcy gasped, launching out of her chair to wrap her arms around the pair.

 

Wanda easily wrapped her arms around Darcy, while Vision warmly patted her on the back.

 

“Are you guys okay?” Darcy whispered to them.

 

“We are well, Darcy,” Vision replied soothingly. “Thank you for advocating for the FBI’s deal.”

 

“It was the least I could do for you guys.” Darcy smiled. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

 

“You’re our friend, Darce. It was the least we could do,” Wanda said.

 

Darcy beamed at the pair. “You ready to burn the Albanian mafia to the ground?”

 

Vision stood tall and resolute, as if ready to go into a mighty battle with them all. Wanda looked like they were off to burn their enemies to dust and planned on dancing on their graves.

 

“Please get comfortable,” Thor requested as they filed into the room. “We have a lot to discuss.”

 

They all took their seats and Darcy couldn’t help but feel a stab of disappointment at the lone empty chair at the table.

 

A knock at the door was their only warning before the door opened.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice said from behind the open door and Darcy straightened up like a shot.

 

Bucky emerged from behind the door. He had cleaned up since the last time she’d seen him. He was now clean-shaven and his hair neatly washed. He’d replaced the orange jumpsuit with simple red shirt and jeans. His eyes were the clearest she’d ever seen.

 

Darcy felt a soaring feeling in her chest.

 

“So, I’ve talked to Agent Odinson,” Bucky addressed Wanda and Vision mostly, “Pierce is practically untouchable for most of the year.”

 

“His house has enough security to be a fortress,” Vision agreed with a nod. “When he is out, he has a detailed security force with him at all times. Attacking him while outside, it would cause severe fatalities on both sides. We’ve discussed this many times before.”

 

“Yes, but that was when we were trying to do a more...head-on approach to solve the problem.”

 

What a lovely way to say they were trying to murder Pierce.

 

“We have more resources now,” Bucky’s gaze cut to Odinson briefly in acknowledgement, “but we have to find a way to get to him without any casualties.”

 

“Well, if we had enough trouble trying to get to him when we weren’t concerned with his life, then how are we gonna catch him alive?” Wanda asked, cocking her head.

 

“As I was telling Mr. Barnes, contacts within Pierce’s organization have informed us that Pierce is holding an event.”

 

“What kind of event?” Darcy asked.

 

“They weren’t able to find out.”

 

“But,” Bucky added, “if we can get in, we should be able to take them down from the inside.”

 

He leaned onto the table with his forearms. For the first time in the room, he looked directly at me. “And then we’ll destroy the Albanian mafia for good.”

 

Darcy couldn’t help but beam at him. And Bucky smiled back. So much seemed to pass between them in that one moment.

 

“Let’s get to work.”

 


End file.
